I feel like the dog's breakfast if that had been both simultaneously vomited up and shat out. There's no other way to describe this awful feeling. When Imogen left, I had my anger as a coping mechanism, but with Paige, I've got nothing. I couldn't find the right words last night, and now I've got this horrendous hole in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. That's all I've got. Absence.

Paige left for work so early this morning that I didn't even see her. At first, I thought maybe she'd slept in, but when I knocked on her door, I discovered her room empty. The smoothie I make her went uneaten in the blender until I finally dumped it in the rubbish.

As though Imogen can sense blood in the water, she's already texted me this morning to see whether I've thought about her dinner and evening as a family plan. She's not pushing for the reunion, just the steps that she thinks will lead in that direction. I leave her message sitting on my home screen, unread.

The rest of my day goes about as well as the start. In my distracted state, I burn breakfast. The kids are both stroppy and uncooperative all morning no matter what I suggest or try to do. My patience is thin, and I end up trying to put them down for an early nap. Doesn't work.

In fact, they both end up wailing in their rooms while I contemplate locking myself in the bathroom and having a rant or a cry of my own. Few days have left me defeated since me and Paige got together. At the end of the day, I knew she'd be home, and we'd have a good laugh over how terrible everything had been. Might have been shit in the moment, but with her, even no good very bad days were infinitely better.

By the time a cab makes its way down the lane after dinner, I've had about enough of the nanny life. But a small jolt of fear streaks through me that something has happened to Paige or her car that a cab is arriving at the time she'd normally be home. I go outside to greet it, expecting a petite blonde to climb out of the back, and instead I'm met with the slightly taller brown-haired sibling of the woman I expected to see.

"Gwen?" I frown. "Paige didn't tell me you were coming?"

"There are some things that are best left as a surprise," she says breezily while she tries to tug two giant cases from the boot. "And other things that should not be a surprise."

The cab driver tries to help remove her cases, and he can't manage them either.

With a sigh, I go over and hoist them both out.

"How long are you staying?" The last time she arrived was terrible timing as well.

"I don't know. When are you moving back in with Imogen?"

I rear back, and my frown deepens. "What?"

"Flew standby after Paige called me last night."

"I never said I was going back to Imogen." I don't know what I'm doing, but I can see how that might appear to be what I implied. Starting that conversation when I didn't understand where I wanted it to go was a bad idea. But there's never been anything I couldn't talk to Paige about.  I've never had to mind my words or consider my phrasing. She's always understood what I meant before, often even before I did. "Definitely never said I was moving in with her."

"Newsflash, Nanny Ash," Gwen says, wheeling one of her giant cases toward the front entrance. "That's not what she heard. Get the other suitcase, will you?"

"We've dropped the nanny part. It's just Ash." My brain feels like it's two steps behind. Paige called in Gwen as a buffer? That's the only explanation here. Fuck me.

"I hear you've dropped lots of things." She eyes my trousers, and I'm tempted to cover my bits with my hand or my arm while I wheel her case with the other.

"Did Paige ask you to come?"

"She didn't have to. This is what sisters do." She stands in the entranceway and surveys it. "I forgot how white this all was. And red. Why would you want a red carpet?"

"She doesn't own the place." In the living room, I can hear Chloe and Joey jabbering away to each other. At least they're not fighting.

"When are you moving out?" Gwen asks, and she rotates to face me.

"I never said I was leaving."

"Maybe not, but you did say your ex wanted you back."

"That doesn't mean I want her back."

"She's Chloe's mother."

"I'm aware, thank you." I take her cases and head for the stairs. Of all the people Paige could have invited here as a buffer, Gwen is the last person I'd have suggested. With her here, it'll be just like last time. Zero privacy and no chance to clean up whatever I stepped in last night. "How long are you here for?"

"I have no plans to leave. One way ticket," Gwen says, trailing behind me. "Suppose it depends on whether Paige accepts that promotion at the Michigan office."

Promotion? My stomach drops out. All Paige told me was that she had an extra month in England. Was her behaviour last night so strange because she was offered a promotion in America? Maybe this chasm of distance has got nothing to do with what I said about Imogen. In fact, she practically encouraged me to take Imogen back.

"I guess just put my stuff in with Paige. She said something about getting an inflatable bed for Joey or something."

I deposit her bags inside Paige's room, and I try to get my bearings. Gwen is here, and Paige is not. No return flight means that Gwen could be here until Paige leaves at the end of April. Bloody hell, I need a drink.

"I'm supposed to meet Tejinder for a pint." A lie, but I take out my phone and pretend to check it to confirm. "You alright to watch the kids before Paige gets home?"

"She said she's on the way, so that's fine." She pushes her cases deeper into the room and closes the door before following me down the stairs.

At least she's texted one of us. I just need to get out of this house before I go bloody mental. I grab a jacket from the hook by the door, and I'm outside sucking in a deep lungful of cool night air. The broken conversation with Paige last night has tipped my life sideways, and I can't catch my breath. Part of me wants to stand in the driveway and confront her the minute she gets home—force some sort of conversation.

But me barreling ahead without knowing my own mind led to this fucking mess. Imogen and her dad wormed their way in yesterday, and normally the minute I see Paige, those sorts of negative thoughts vanish. The weeks flying by—even if we've got four more now—are making me question how heavily I should be relying on Paige for that sense of stability. She'll take the promotion, and then she'll be gone.

If there was no Paige, would I want to give Imogen a second chance? To me, that feels like the question I can't seem to answer. Because Paige is everywhere—lodged so deep in my head and my heart it's impossible to make any decisions without considering her first. I don't want the life I once had with Imogen if I can have this one, the one I've got right now with Paige, Joey, and Chloe in this house.

  In the car, I send a text to Tejinder, and he offers to meet me. Once I'm there, I grab us both a pint and a table in the middle of the pub. I'm not in the mood for quiet. My brain needs to switch off, and being in the thick of traffic will be a nice distraction.

Tejinder arrives not long after me, and he slides into the seat across from me, taking a drink of his pint before raising his eyebrows in question.

"Imogen wants to try again."

"As expected," he says without even a trace of surprise.

"She left me," I say with a grimace. "How could she even think trying again is a good idea?"

Tejinder sighs. "I know you don't want to hear this, mate. But I reckon we both know who she really left."

People are moving around us, and we drink our beers in silence. He's right, and I've even admitted as much to myself. Imogen admitted something similar, but it still hurts my heart to hear it. That Chloe, my bright, shining light, was who Imogen was running from. Maybe that's not quite fair, but it isn't too far off.

"You told Paige?" he asks.

"How d'you know?"

"Can't imagine she'd have taken that well. The two of you are brutally honest. No way you were keeping that to yourself, even if you should've."

"Paige didn't tell me she's been offered a promotion back in America."

"Ouch." He winces and takes another drink. "Bet that stung."

"Especially since it was Gwen delivering the blow."

"Her sister's here?"

"Nothing like shoving some distance between us by inviting her sister to come stay. She turned up this evening. Perfect timing, as always. The writing is on the wall, innit?"

We drink in silence, and the beer tastes like ash.

"Do you want to get back together with Imogen?" Tejinder asks.

"Don't know."

"Mate." He stares at me. "You know."

I release a deep breath. "In some ways, I reckon it'd make the most sense to pick up where we left off. For Chloe's sake. We spent ten years together, and we were—we were..." I can't say happy because I no longer believe it.

There were things missing from my relationship with Imogen that I didn't even know I needed to be truly happy. We weren't as honest as we should have been. The sexual chemistry wasn't as strong as it could have been. Imogen was possessive, and Paige has always been protective. Paige wants what's best for me, and I think, in a way, Imogen has always been more concerned about what's best for her. 

"Once you've seen the difference, I reckon it'd be impossible to go back," Tejinder says. "Had you never met Paige, never been with her. Might be different."

I set my elbows on the table and I rub my face. Imogen is dangling the family unit in front of me like a carrot, but I'm not sure I'd ever be happy. Not truly. If I'm honest, I'm not even sure I could ever love her with the same blind devotion she once inspired. Someone else has it now.

"I don't want her to leave." There's so much anguish in my voice that I almost can't stand myself. "The idea of her leaving." I choke on the last word.

"Move to America."

"Even if Imogen would agree," because the thought has been on repeat in my head since she turned up, "her parents wouldn't. They'd fight me."

Tejinder makes a noise of agreement and drains the rest of his pint.

"She didn't tell me about the promotion. Gwen knows, and I don't."

"I've got nothing, Ash. No idea. Neither do you. How would you normally solve that?"

"If I didn't care so much about the answer, I'd ask her."

Tejinder chuckles. "You realize how backward that sounds?" He leans across the table. "Tell her you're not going back to Imogen whether Paige stays or goes. If you can't ask her about the promotion, at least tell her your side. Maybe she'll tell you hers."

The thought causes my stomach to flip. While I've known for ages she was going, and up until yesterday, I thought we only had two months left, it's only been recently that the reality has been hitting me in the chest. Exactly how much I'll lose when she returns to her life in America.

"She told me she'd support whatever decision I made. She as good as told me to go back to Imogen."

"Bollocks." Tejinder waves his hand. "That's not what she said. You just told me what she said."

"I don't think she'll speak to me. She's avoided me all day."

"You're here. What are you doing?"

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

"You live together. It's impossible to avoid each other forever. You either let what's between you rot, or you figure out how to extend the growing season."

"You a farmer now?"

"Yes," Tejinder says. "I'm cultivating love." He grins.

"Why is this so fucking hard?"

"Because you care, mate. Sometimes the more you care, the harder shit gets. Doesn't mean it's not worth it. Go home. Tell her."

I drain the rest of my pint, and I sit for a minute with my head in my hands. Can't think of anything worse than telling her everything and having her say it doesn't matter. The thought turns my stomach.

When I get home, all the lights are out and everyone is in bed, and the next morning, Paige is gone before I'm even awake.

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