He's hovering at the threshold of our bedroom door and rubbing a towel into his damp sun streaked hair. He's wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and staring at me. I think he's waiting for something. “Um, sorry, what?” “You're by the window again,” he says. “And your point is?” What is he? The window police? Am I not allowed to stand by the window in my own apartment and watch the world go by? He steps forward. Closer and closer until I feel uncomfortable with how close he's getting. I try not to let it show on my face but I think he knows because he stops. “Fancy a walk along the beach tonight?” No. I don't want to walk along the beach. I don't want to think about the promise of watching our children play in the sand. The promises I don’t know if I can keep anymore. “No, I'm okay.” “Julia—” I try not to roll my eyes. I'm fully aware of the fact that I haven't left out apartment since I came home from the hospital six weeks ago. And I'm fully aware that all I do is stand at the window and watch the world go by.
What do You think about Blurred Lines (Behind Closed Doors Book 2)?
