The Confession Read Free Page B

family?”
    “I was to my dad. Not so much my mother or sister. We have a … I suppose the best word would be strained. We have a strained relationship.”
    Her face appeared pained. He almost believed that the strain she spoke of was something she didn’t understand and something she wished was different. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    Changing the subject again, she said, “I’m sorry I interrupted your work earlier. I didn’t realize there was another cottage out here when I first came through.”
    “You didn’t interrupt anything. I was staring at a blank screen.”
    She looked at him with confusion.
    “I have this wild notion that I’ll write a book someday. Or rather Emily ‘sees great potential in my future as a storyteller.’” He laughed. “When I was a little kid I would make up stories to cheer Emily up. As I grew up, the stories became more elaborate. She loved them and thinks I should write them down to be published.”
    “Was she sad often?”
    He stared at her, slightly taken aback by her question. The tone of his voice grew sharp. “Regardless of what it looks like from the outside, she hasn’t lived a completely charmed life. She’s gone through more than most, and more than anyone should.”
    “I … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest … ” she muttered, her face flushed.
    He looked at her genuinely apologetic expression. He felt like a heel. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to pry.” Aimee quickly rose from the table. Thanking him for the wine, she mumbled something about her early morning and hurried back toward her cottage.
    He knew he’d acted like an ass. He wanted to go and apologize but felt glued to the chair. He watched her leave, torn between his suspicions of her, and his baffling urge to pull her into his arms and chase the sadness from her eyes.

Chapter 5
    The next morning, Aimee let herself in through the French doors in the back of the main house as she’d been instructed. The room was beautiful, with large comfortable sofas crowded with warm colored throw pillows, a big fireplace surrounded by bookshelves, and an abundance of green plants. It was inviting and full of bright sunlight.
    “You must be Aimee.”
    She turned and nodded at the warm face of the woman welcoming her. The woman’s skin was the color of melted chocolate, her hair the color of salt and pepper, pulled back into a bun, and her tooth-filled smile stretched from ear to ear. She wore a simple, soft gray dress partially covered by an apron with roosters walking across the bottom. Her eyes were gentle, but it was apparent those eyes didn’t miss a thing.
    “I’m Mimsey. It’s very nice to meet you. Have you eaten breakfast? Emily and Marcus are just sitting down to theirs.” Mimsey started from the room and, turning back to Aimee, bopped her head toward the door, inviting her to follow.
    “I have eaten, thank you. Emily left some delicious muffins in the cottage yesterday.”
    “I’m glad you enjoyed them,” Mimsey replied, her face conveying her obvious pride. “Come and join the others. I’ll pour you some coffee.”
    They walked through the main entry, and in through the closed doors leading to the kitchen. Mark and Emily were seated at a small table in the corner, each sipping from a coffee cup and deep in conversation.
    “Good morning, Aimee,” Emily said, motioning for her to take the empty seat next to her. “Did you sleep well?”
    “Very well, thank you.” She looked over at Mark, his eyes watchful. She mumbled “Good morning” to him as she sat down and thanked Mimsey for the steaming cup of coffee she placed in front of her.
    She took a small sip of the hot liquid and listened to the banter going on between Emily and Mark. They were so comfortable together. Aimee wondered if she could have that ease with Emily. She wanted that desperately. Would Emily understand why she took the job as her assistant? Would she appreciate