Watch Over You Read Online Free Page B

and touch the side of his face and she feared that, at any moment, she would. She balled her hand into a tight fist and shoved it into her pocket. She tried to focus on the cookies. Some had cinnamon. Some had fruit, raspberries or strawberries. Some had jam in the centre of them. “Who puts fruit in cookies?” he asked as he stared.
    She relaxed a little and laughed. “You don’t like fruit in cookies?”
    “No. It’s sacrilege. If you’re going to eat something that’s bad for you, do it properly. Cookies should be chocolate or those little coloured sprinkled things. Where’s the fun in adding fruit and making it healthy?”
    “You sound like my husband. He…” She caught herself, mentally cursing her slip. “Chocolate ones then? Double or normal?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She ordered a bag of five mixed instead. They could have one each. She only wanted to taste them again. Devan could have the rest of them. She had no doubt he would probably give them away, but as long as someone enjoyed them, she didn’t mind.
    They chose a table outside the coffee shop. This one was different to Taylor’s. It was still a franchise but owned by a different company. She had seen them around but never tried one. She wasn’t a fan of new things, not unless she thought about it first, but even then, she went back to what she knew.
    When the waitress came to take their order, she ordered a regular coffee. The thought of another latte made her feel she would happily throw up. Devan went to order regular too, but she insisted that he order something he liked. She offered him something to eat but he refused. She insisted, though, and the waitress began to look impatient. He finally chose the cheapest sandwich he could find.
    “Does your husband know that you pick up the dregs of society from the street?” he asked her as they waited on their order. If she had been drinking something, she would have spluttered it everywhere. Instead, she tried not to choke on her shock at his question.
    “He won’t mind,” she said. She shuffled back into the seat, trying to get comfortable and sit properly all at the same time, but it didn’t seem to matter. With Devan there, she was ill at ease, afraid she’d say the wrong thing and make him leave.
    “He must be very understanding then. You’ve been married a long time?”
    “Just a couple of years,” she said, not offering any more information. Saying ’My husband is dead’ would make her cry. Devan was a stranger. She didn’t want him to wonder or ask why she wasn’t over her husband yet when someone else would be by now. She was a failure, believing everyone considered her weird or pathetic. She didn’t bother with her friends for that reason. She didn’t want to see their pitying faces or hear their words. He’s in a better place. He’d want you to move on and be happy. In truth, that was all a lie and she knew it. He wasn’t in a better place. A better place was with her. And would he really want her to move on? She wouldn’t if it were the other way around. Not that she’d want him sad, but to move on to another person? No. She felt like a fool half the time so she stayed away from everyone, and they stayed away from her. They wouldn’t understand anyway. His death was her fault. No one would ever want to be near her if they knew the truth. She did want to ask Devan about Eric, though, and the work he had done with him. She had no idea how to go about it, though. “You help the homeless?” she began.
    He nodded and it was his turn to shift uncomfortably in his seat. “I got into it a few years ago, and now it just seems like the right thing to do.”
    “You don’t get tired of it? Think maybe you can get yourself off the streets instead of someone else?”
    “What kind of person would do that?”
    “Many. Most people think of themselves first.”
    The waitress arrived just then with their sandwiches and coffees on a tray. Tara indicated to her