The Housemaid by Freida McFadden

Author:Freida McFadden [McFadden, Freida]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803144375
Amazon: B09TWSRMCB
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-TWO

I can’t sleep.

It’s been three days since I was nearly apprehended at the grocery store. I don’t know what to do next. Nina has been pleasant enough, so maybe she feels like I’ve learned my lesson about who is boss in this house. Maybe she isn’t trying to send me to jail.

But that’s not the reason I’m tossing and turning.

The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about Andrew. That night we spent together. The way I feel when I’m with him. I’ve never felt this way before. And until Nina dropped the bombshell about my past, he felt the same way. I could tell.

But not anymore. Now he thinks I’m nothing but a common criminal.

I kick the blankets off my legs. It’s stiflingly hot in my room, even at night. If only I could open that stupid window. But I doubt Nina is going to do anything to make me feel more comfortable here.

I finally wander downstairs to the kitchen. I have that mini-fridge in my room, but I don’t have much food in it. It’s too small to fit much. Those three mini water bottles Nina left me are nearly all that’s in there, still untouched.

As I’m walking to the kitchen, I notice the light is on for the back porch. I frown and approach the back door. That’s when I realize there’s a reason the light is on. Somebody is out there.

It’s Andrew.

Sitting all alone in one of the chairs out there, drinking from a bottle of beer.

I quietly slide open the back door. Andrew blinks up at me in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything. He just takes another swig from his bottle of beer.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” he says.

I squeeze my hands together. “Can I sit here?”

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

I step out onto the cold wooden planks on the porch and lower myself into the seat next to his, wishing I had a beer as well. He doesn’t even look at me. He just keeps drinking from his beer bottle, staring out into the huge backyard.

“I want to explain.” I clear my throat. “I mean, why I didn’t tell you about…”

“You don’t have to explain.” He glances in my direction then back down at his beer. “It’s pretty obvious why you didn’t tell me.”

“I wanted to.” That’s not true. I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want him to ever know, even though that was entirely unrealistic. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

He swishes the beer around in his bottle. “So what were you in prison for?”

I really, really wish I had a beer. I open my mouth, but before I can figure out what to tell him, he says, “Forget it. I don’t want to know. It’s none of my business.”

I chew on my lip. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to try to put the past behind me. I didn’t mean any harm.”

“Yeah…”

“And…” I stare down at my hands in my lap. “I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to think less of me. Your opinion means a lot to me.

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