I smile hesitantly. “Yeah. It’s also mine,” I murmur.
“What?”
Shaking my head, I gather my thoughts before replying, “Yeah. I’ve inherited this place.”
Her eyes widen in disbelief, her mouth forming a silent “O” of surprise. “Oh my. Are you going to live here or sell it?” she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.
The question catches me off guard, and for a moment, I am at a loss for words. Should I live here? Should I sell it? I hadn’t even considered the options.
“I don’t even know. I will probably live here,” I finally admit.
Rae’s concern is evident as she presses further, “What about college and everything?”
The question hangs in the air.
“Honestly, I don’t know, Rae,” I confess.
Rae places her hands in mine. Her gesture of comfort and support warms my heart. She offers her condolences on my grandmother’s passing. “Thank you,” I murmur, grateful for her understanding and compassion.
Changing the subject feels like a necessary distraction. “So, what happened between you and Archie?” I ask.
“Well, he went all weird on me. Saying it was him, not me. Also, he needed to do stuff before getting serious with anyone.”
“Hmm. Odd.” I reply.
“I’m over him. I’m done. It’s nice being here and taking my mind off it.”
I am so glad she is done with him. Archie was, and still is, a creep.
The corners of my lips curl into a mischievous smirk as I rise from the stool, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. “Would you like a drink?” I ask.
Her eyes light up with a playful glint as she responds, “Do you have wine?”
“Uhh…”
I swing open the cupboard door. My gaze flits over the array of bottles, finally settling on the red and white wines nestled among the glasses. “I’ll have a glass of red, please,” she requests.
I grab a wine glass and set it on the countertop. I carefully uncork the wine, the satisfying pop echoing softly in the air.
“You not having one?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“No, I’ve been sick the last couple of days,”
“Probably all the emotions. Come on, have a glass.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine…” I mumble, reaching for another wine glass. With practiced ease, I pour myself a glass.
I carefully place her glass on the kitchen island.
I bring the glass to my nose, inhaling deeply. The aroma of the wine envelops me.
With a sense of anticipation, I take a small sip. Rae raises her glass to her lips, her expression thoughtful. She takes a sip, her eyes closing briefly in appreciation before a soft hmm escapes her lips.
“This is nice. What is it called?” she asks.
Turning the bottle in my hand, I present the label to her. She leans in, her gaze tracing the words before a smile graces her lips.
“So, how have the guys been?” Rae asks.
Her question catches me off guard and I pause for a moment.
“They have been amazing in supporting me. I couldn’t ask for any better,” I finally respond, choosing my words carefully.
“That’s good. I’m gonna be blunt. Like…are you fucking them all?”
She leaves me speechless, my eyes widening in surprise.
“Uh...Yes... Rae,” I stammer, the admission leaving my lips before I can fully process it. She meets my gaze with a knowing smirk, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
As the tension dissipates, I chuckle nervously, grateful for her acceptance and understanding.
Mike rushes into the kitchen, breaking the tension of the moment. I watch as he swings open the fridge door.
“Ay. Close that fridge, Amara has made us food,” I interject, my tone light, but firm.
Rae’s curiosity piques when she mentions Amara and turns to me with a questioning gaze. “Who’s Amara?” she asks.
I explain she is the housekeeper and close the fridge. With a huff, Mike redirects his focus.
