Tilly
Waking up curled around Evie was like something she’d half-dreamt or half-daydreamed back in the first six months after they’d first met. Now, it was a reality of warm, smooth skin. Actual memories of the feel of Evie under Tilly’s mouth, the sounds she made in Tilly’s ear, the grasping of her fingers.
Back in that first six months of university, Tilly would be in her little, slightly creaky twin bed on one side of their shared room and in the soft blue of dawn, before the sun had really risen but light had started to run over the sky like spilled milk, she would curl up in bed and imagine that Evie was right beside her, and not metres away in her own university-standard, slightly creaky twin bed.
Tilly had fallen for her so hard and fast she almost didn’t even notice it happen. Instead, it was like tripping on a step on your way down the stairs: a lurch in your stomach, and the next second you’re face-first on the landing and in a predicament, whether you’d realised or not.
It just happened.
Love was unavoidable and untenable, and she’d felt steeped in it, then. All of Tilly’s sharp edges—her heavy eyeliner and black clothes and harsh-cut bob, lines almost severe in the way they framed her face, all helping create the I don’t care image she needed—melted before Evie so fast it was embarrassing.
She didn’t have the real thing back then, like she did now. So Tilly would let herself imagine: whispered confessions, bold declarations, the stripping of clothes, and the desperation of touches. Tilly would let herself imagine waking up in the morning wrapped in each other, all soft caresses and comfort.
Hard-and-kind-of-angry Tilly had had this romantic daydream in her head for months back then. She’d lose herself in the idea of a soft morning after, of fingers trailing Evie’s cheeks and half-asleep kisses.
But in her bed back then, daydreaming and nineteen and in love for the first time, it hadn’t felt like something she could have, especially after she’d taken off. But she could have this cheeky, morning daydream about her new best friend. Hope had bloomed in her belly and potential sat heavy as she let her thoughts run wild with possibility.
Then she’d buried it, and stopped those daydreams, and focused on their friendship.
But sometimes, all the years after, she’d wake up with the tendrils of those daydreams clinging to her, the happiness and warmth that would sit in her belly.
This reality was so much better than anything she had ever imagined.
Evie, it turned out, was grumpy in the morning whether or not she was post-sex. She still made whining noises as she woke up, eyebrows scrunching together and looking like a grouch. But when Tilly pressed closer, warm and naked front pressing to Evie’s back, that whine disappeared and she pulled Tilly’s arm tighter around herself.
And just that, there, the actual feeling of this, beat anything she could have ever thought of back then.
Tilly pressed kisses to the back of Evie’s neck, one after the other, gentle and light. Evie made a contented sighing sound and Tilly smiled into her skin, not bothering with the kisses anymore when she could press closer.
It could be a dream, it was so perfect. Evie hadn’t put the blind down in her room, and the gauzy curtains let in streams of light over the bed. Outside, a magpie warbled, the sound as familiar as Evie’s breathing in the morning.
Evie shifted, straightening her legs and tangling them with Tilly’s. “G’morning,” she breathed out.
If Tilly knew Evie, her eyes would still be closed.
“Morning,” Tilly said.
“We’re naked,” Evie said.
Tilly laughed, surprised. “We are.”
“Because we slept together,” Evie said, and Tilly could hear the smile in her voice, the amusement.
“We did.”
“It was good, too.”
“It was.”
They lay in their own silence, the hand Tilly had not trapped under her body running up and down Evie’s arm, along her hip and thigh, over her belly, the skin tight and lined with the stretch marks she’d gained from the pregnancy. They were tiny bits of writing along her skin, something Tilly could trace the tips of her fingers along and read. Tilly’s stomach didn’t have many, either because she’d been so young or her skin less prone to them or something, she didn’t know. But she found the sight of them on Evie gorgeous: a testament to the wonder of Evie’s body. The baby kicked against her hand, and Tilly laid it flat over the spot, Evie’s hand lying next to it.
They both held their breath.
Another kick.
“It’s awake,” Evie stated.
“So are you.”
“It’s so early.”
Tilly lifted her head and squinted blurrily at the clock. “It’s nine, Evie. That’s not early.”
“Everything’s early when you’ve just woken up.”
Tilly couldn’t really argue with that, and instead lay back down to curve around Evie again.
“I have the utterly ridiculous notion that my baby will hate mornings and will sleep in,” Evie said.
Tilly snorted into the nape of her neck.
Evie sighed. “That’s what I thought. It’s already proving me wrong.”
Tilly rubbed her nose along Evie’s neck, then kissed it again. Evie made a humming noise of contentment.
“I can’t believe I get to do that,” Tilly whispered.
Evie gave a sleepy chuckle, fingers moved over the back of Tilly’s hand instead of next to it, linking their fingers together. “I know, it should be weird.” She paused. “And, I mean, it kind of is.”
Tilly could hear that grin in her words still, but gave a pretend shocked gasp. “I’m insulted.”
Evie weakly kicked her heel into Tilly’s shin, giving up and just leaving her foot against it in the end. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
She thought the conversation was over, but then Evie said, “I used to think about this a lot. When we first met. You were the first girl back then that I was really attracted to.”
“I was?” Tilly pushed up to lean her elbow into the mattress, head propped up on her hand so she could look down on Evie.
Shuffling onto her back, putting an arm under her head on the pillow, Evie almost looked shy, biting her lip as she smiled. “You were. I mean, I knew I liked girls and was bi, even though I didn’t know I knew. But I met you and, like, wham.” Her eyes were bright and honest, that shy grin on her lips too much for Tilly and she had to lean down and press a kiss to them. It was supposed to be brief, but Evie lifted a hand to her head and pulled her back into it, humming into it when she finally let Tilly go.
Not that Tilly was in a rush to leave.
“Evie? Are you telling me I was your big gay awakening?”
Evie rolled her eyes. “Oh God, now you’re insufferable. No, Rachel Weisz was.”
“From The Mummy?”
“Obviously.”
Tilly nodded in understanding.
“But—” and Evie sighed as if admitting this were painful, even as the smile couldn’t be wiped from her lips “—yes, you were the first, truly. You walked into our shared room and I kind of forgot how to speak for an embarrassing moment.”
Tilly knew her grin was too cocky. She knew it. But she couldn’t stop it.
Evie’s cheeks were bright red and she threw her arm over her eyes. “See! Insufferable. God.” Her words were muffled. Tilly laughed and tugged at her arm, but Evie refused to move it. “No, I’m never coming out.”
“Evie.” Tilly was laughing, the name coming out elongated.
“Nope.”
“What if I tell you something?”
Evie pulled her arm up an inch, so one eye peered out at her. “What?”
God, Tilly loved this woman. She grinned. “I used to lie in bed and imagine waking up with you. Like, full-blown, romantic morning wake-up scenes together, in my head. I’d imagine it in class during boring lectures. I’d wake up in the morning and just lie there and pretend you were with me instead of across the room.”
Evie’s smile had faded as she’d spoken, then grown stronger and stronger, lighting up her entire face, her arm pulling away to lie back under her head.
“I mean sure, I thought about kissing you, and doing everything we did last night,” said Tilly. “But really? I was a sucker for this.”
“Tilly, you lurved me,” Evie sing-songed. And she laughed.
Tilly could have also laughed then. She could have made it a joke, or kissed her, and shown her more of what Tilly had thought about. She could have rolled her eyes and teased her back. Instead, with a smile still on her face and Evie’s naked legs entwined in her own, Tilly just said, “Yeah, I did.”
And Evie’s smile faded a little. But Tilly knew her. She knew Evie better than she knew anyone. It wasn’t panic. Only surprise.
“I did love you.” Tilly swallowed. “And I do. Love you, I mean. I’m in love with you. You have no idea.”
Eyes wide, Evie was staring up at her.
“I hope that’s okay,” Tilly said.
“Well.” Evie swallowed. She pushed hair behind Tilly’s ear. “That’s lucky.”
“It is?”
“Mhm. It is. Because I love you too. I’ve loved you for over a decade.”
And Tilly kissed her, again, because she could.
And Evie kissed her back, because so could she.
* * *
Tilly’s favourite café in Fremantle, the port city south of Perth, was always bustling. It was tucked around the corner of the main street, the market not far away where the crowds were mostly drawn. There was the faintest of breezes chasing away the cloying heat, and it was hard not to start wishing for it to be even a month away, when the weather would finally turn cooler. Summer in Perth was beautiful, but the ongoing high temperatures grew tiresome.
Evie laughed at the antics of a nearby dog and Tilly loved that she could watch her, properly. She could admire the line of her throat when she threw her head back, could let her eyes grow soft and smile and think about how she got to put her lips right there. How she knew the feel of Evie’s skin beneath them. How she knew that if she kissed her ever so gently, just behind her ear, Evie’s breath would halt altogether.
They’d spent all day yesterday in bed, and last night at home. And then this morning.
But Tilly wanted to go back there. A bubble of their making, where they could ignore everything else going on in the world and just be the two of them.
Instead they were at brunch in the bright reality of day, fully clothed and having to think about what they were doing.
“I think,” Evie said from across the café table, “that we may need a little bit of time, to adjust.”
Tilly was focused on making sure the ridiculously contented feeling that hadn’t left all weekend wasn’t completely plastered in the smile on her face. “I agree. And by that you mean…?”
“By that I mean, let’s stick with having lunch with Sean and be the three of us, and deal with telling him later.”
Tilly’s eyebrows shot up of their own accord. “You mean, not tell him?”
“Yeah.”
“And assume he won’t figure it out?”
“Well, yeah.” Evie looked confused.
Tilly bit her lip, trying to hide a smile. “Sure, okay.”
“How will he know? We’re sitting on opposite sides of the table and are about to eat poached eggs and avocado on toast and hang out like we all do all the time. It’s a normal brunch.”
“No, you’re right. It just…feels obvious?”
Evie cocked her head. “It does?”
“Yeah.” Tilly shrugged, verging on sheepish. “I feel like everything feels different and amazing, and surely that has to show.”
The grin that grew slowly on Evie’s lips was blinding. “I get what you mean.”
Tilly could only grin back at her.
Finally, Evie laughed, breaking contact. “See that? That we can’t do here.”
Tilly pouted. “I can’t help it.”
“You’ve managed to avoid it for years, avoid it now.”
“But I didn’t have the memory of kissing you against the front door this morning for all those years.”
Evie’s cheeks flushed.
Tilly shrugged, still smiling. “Now it’s there, in my brain, and I’m allowed to think about it and it makes me do this.” She gestured vaguely to her whole face.
“Well, you need to make that,” Evie waved her hand in Tilly’s direction, smile still on her lips, “stop.”
“You too.”
“I am in perfect control.”
“You’re still grinning.”
Evie made a poor attempt to stop.
“Now you look like you have fish lips.”
Evie gave a loud bark of laughter and threw her balled-up serviette at Tilly, who batted it aside.
“Oh, are we throwing things at Tilly?” Sean slid into his seat. “Can I join in?”
“Of course,” Evie said. She handed him another serviette.
He balled it up and threw it at Tilly’s face, Tilly managing to catch it mid-air.
“Hey!” Far too indignant, but Tilly couldn’t help it. “Ganging up. Maybe you should be on my side for this, you just got here, you don’t know.”
“Ah, Tilly. I’m always on Evie’s side.” And he threw another balled-up serviette.
“Hey! Wasting paper! Be good to the environment!” Tilly had her hands held up like a fighter ready to take on more light pieces of paper. “Stop.”
Sean looked at Evie and she shrugged at him. “Fine, we stop. But only for the environment.”
Tilly relaxed back into her chair. “Good to know where your loyalties lie, thanks.”
“So,” Sean said, reaching for a menu, “how are you both?”
“Good,” they both answered at exactly the same time.
Sean looked up, menu unopened in his hand. His gaze slid from Tilly to Evie and back again. His eyes narrowed. A grin crawled onto his face. He looked back to Evie, who was bright red, as if she could see what his brain was thinking.
Tilly just felt resigned.
“Anything you want to tell me?” His gaze was on Tilly, eyes crinkled in the corners.
Tilly only smiled and shrugged.
Knowing he’d get nowhere there, he turned his attention to Evie. Who was, somehow, even more red. “How about you, Evie?”
She shrugged, but it was a much poorer attempt at nonchalance than Tilly’s. “What do you mean?” Evie asked. Her voice even went up an octave.
Sean leaned forward, still grinning. “Nothing…new to share?”
Evie’s gaze flicked desperately to Tilly, then back to Sean. They stared at each other for a beat. Finally, Evie threw her hands up. “Oh, fine!”
Sean cackled and leaned back in his chair, plucking up the menu he’d dropped back on the table. “Knew it.”
Evie looked at Tilly, cheeks still red, then back to Sean.
“So,” he said again, eyes on the open menu. “Who kissed who?”
“Whom,” Evie corrected.
Sean looked at her and Tilly raised her eyebrows.
“Really?” they both said.
Sean held his fist out for Tilly to fist bump without even looking away from Evie. Tilly knocked her fist against his.
“What?” Evie said. “It’s true.”
“No one uses that,” Tilly said.
“Some people do.”
“Sure,” Sean said. “Sure, Evie.”
“They do!” Evie said.
Evie was saved by the waitress coming over to take their order. She was slightly confused when all three chose the exact same order, but took a note of it and left with a smile and their menus.
“Back to the question,” Sean said the second she walked away. His grin was wicked. “Who kissed who? When did this happen? Melbourne? Did it happen in Melbourne?”
Tilly looked away at the table to pick up something to fiddle with, only finding a sugar packet, and Evie flushed.
“Yes!” He was basically self-congratulatory. “Melbourne. At the start? In the middle?” He turned to Evie. “Wow. I just realised you kept it a secret the whole time before Tilly came back. How did that happen?”
“I avoided you.”
“Oh.” He shook off his surprise. “That’s right. You were ‘busy at work’.” He even made air quotes.
“Well, I was.” Evie tried to look prim and failed.
Tilly wanted to kiss her.
He turned to Tilly. “You, I get not telling me. You’re the queen of secret keeping.”
It was supposed to sound light, but the second the words were out of his mouth they felt heavy, pulling the mood down with them. He winced as he appeared to sense that, but Tilly gave him a shrug and a small, flippant shake of her head.
“I am,” Tilly said, trying to sound carefree again. It didn’t entirely work. “Also, it was just one kiss, in Melbs. Right at the airport when I was dropping Evie off for her flight back.”
“Aw. That’s so romantic.” Sean was going to be insufferable. “You kissed her at the gate.”
“Actually.” Tilly grinned and Evie narrowed her eyes, knowing what was coming. “Evie came back out from the gate at security and kissed me.”
Sean’s eyes flew wide and he turned to Evie. “You did not?”
She sighed. “I did.”
“Evie Chen. That’s so brave.”
“I resent the shock in your tone,” Evie said.
Both Tilly and Sean raised their eyebrows at her.
“Really?” Tilly asked.
“Fine, no. I shocked myself,” Evie said.
Sean chuckled. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been.” And he sounded genuine. He sat, looking from one to the other, his smile huge. “Then what happened?”
“Oh my God, Sean,” Tilly laughed. “You sound like a kid waiting for a bedtime story.”
“Hey! I have been there since we were what? Eighteen? Nineteen? I watched the two of you be all besotted with each other and stare at each other from across the room when you thought the other wasn’t watching.” Evie wasn’t the only red one now. “I deserve this gossip.”
Evie threw a balled-up serviette at his face and Tilly cackled.
“You deserved that,” Tilly said.
He flicked the serviette off his shirt onto the table. “Maybe. But still. Is this a thing?”
He sounded so genuinely delighted and curious Tilly took pity on him, and on Evie, who was drowning in her own inability to talk about any of this, ever. Which she’d be hurt by, except she was like this with every partner she’d had, ever.
“It’s a thing, yes,” said Tilly. “I got back, and we talked a bit, and—” she really didn’t mean the grin to take her over then “—and we’re together, I guess?” She looked at Evie, who nodded. “Yeah. We’re together.”
Sean looked as if he’d seen a basket of puppies. “Together. Oh my God. It’s just, it’s happened. I thought it never would. For a while, even though, technically, it has nothing to do with me, I didn’t think it should. And now it has, it—it makes so much sense.”
He looked from one of them to the other. “Of course,” he added. “This timing is ridiculous. Right as Evie gets knocked up, completely unplanned, and has to balance that and the baby daddy, and right as her dad’s dropped back into her life, and right as Tilly drops the truth we’ve been waiting for for over, like, twelve years? Thirteen? That her sister is her daughter and doesn’t know.” He picked up his water glass. “Yeah. The timing makes perfect sense.”
Only Sean could lay it all out there like that.
Tilly still wasn’t used to having the truth of her secret aired so blithely, and was a beat behind Evie.
“Well,” Evie said, reaching for her own water. “Sometimes it takes a big life explosion to clear the way so we can see what’s right there.”
And over the rim of her glass as she took a sip, her eyes were warm, and Tilly couldn’t have stopped herself smiling back if someone had paid her.
“Oh, no.” Sean looked from Evie to Tilly, slightly horrified. “This is my future. You two looking at each other adoringly while I sit here third-wheeling. Oh God. It’s so gross.”
Evie shrugged. “Yup. Pretty much. You’re just a third-wheeler now.”
“Yeah.” Tilly winked at him. “We really don’t require your services anymore. If you could just see yourself out.”
He snorted. “As if. Tilly, you are gonna need me to drag your feet to the ground for the rest of your life.”
“It’s true,” Evie said.
“Hey!” Tilly all but squawked.
Evie grinned at her.
“You’d make so many mistakes without me, Tilly.” Sean was too smug.
“Hey!”
“It’s true,” Evie repeated.
“Hey.”
That one was much weaker.
Tilly needed a change of topic. “Any news on The Fridge Poacher?”
Sean’s entire face darkened. “You will not believe this. So! After being so quiet, all three of us had things taken. My doughnuts on Monday. Colin’s homemade carrot cake on Wednesday. Then!” He held up a finger, and Evie and Tilly both jumped. “The very next day, Erica’s entire lunchbox. Gone from the fridge.” He eyed them seriously. “The. Whole. Thing.”
“Everything?” Evie asked.
“Gone. Box included.”
“That’s suspicious,” Tilly said.
“Right? I think Colin’s right. It was a Hail Mary to make it look like it’s not her.”
“Looks like you’re onto it. Cracking the case. Cracking it wide open,” Tilly said.
“Making that birdie sing,” Evie added.
“Catching her red-handed,” Tilly said.
“You’ll have her coming clean in no time.”
“Make her squeal!”
Then they were silent.
“You’re out of clichés, aren’t you?” Sean asked.
Evie and Tilly nodded.
“Thank God,” he said.
* * *
In February, Tilly did what she could to show Sean and Evie she was serious.
She went on a job interview.
Actually, it was her third interview.
“You what?” Sean asked, sitting up on his towel. A kid’s ball came flying out of nowhere and slapped him in the side of the face, leaving a sandy imprint on his cheek. He barely noticed, giving the kid who ran to get their ball with a wincing apology a quick forgiving smile without looking away from Tilly. “You did what?”
“Your cheek is bright red and covered in sand,” Tilly said.
Sean swiped it away distractedly. “I don’t care. You have an interview for a job? Like, a job-job. With a contract that keeps you tied down? Not, like, casual hours to supplement your freelance work that you have painstakingly built up?”
Evie remained as she was, sitting up on her elbows, eyes inscrutable behind her sunnies. Her eyes darted from Sean to Tilly, a grin growing on her lips.
“Nope. It’s a twelve-month contract with the option for the company to offer me a rolling contract after that. They have a full-time contract available, but my freelance work brings in a lot of cash and I’d prefer to not lose the client base I’ve built. But what they’re offering is really good, and I wouldn’t have to work at the café anymore. I’d have solid hours with them. Being casual at the café has its advantages, but…”
Sean was gaping at her. “Oh.”
“Yeah. So, I have an interview tomorrow. I, um, had applied to a few others. There were a few rejections—”
“You applied for others? And then…kept applying?”
Tilly wanted to kick sand at him. “Yeah. You know, there were a lot of job postings. Some I didn’t even hear back from. I had a phone interview last week with another place but they wanted someone with more experience working in a team. Which clearly I, you know. Lack.” She waved her hand around. “Yay, rejection.”
“Yeah, not fun.” Sean was staring at her. “Ah, how long ago was the first one?”
“Before I left for Melbourne? It was in their offices. They seemed nice enough. Didn’t work out, though.”
Sean was blinking at her. “And now you have another interview?”
“I think they have a lot of applicants. But they were less worried about my not having experience in a team, and keen to hear about how I built up and maintained my current client base. I have to go through a group interview afterwards, if I pass this stage—”
“I can help you,” Sean interrupted. Very quickly. Very eagerly, one could say. He grinned. “I had to do a bunch of them when I was looking for my job. I can give you some pointers.”
Tilly swallowed. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”
“A twelve-month contract?” Evie finally asked.
“Yeah.”
She lifted her sunnies on top of her head, looking at Tilly with an open gaze, that grin not having faded. “Cool.”
Tilly gave her a shy smile.
Sean rolled his eyes at their little moment, something he was doing far too often these days.
Tilly ignored him. “Yeah. The office is in the city centre. I can take the train.”
“Useful,” Evie said, eyes still staring into her.
Her stomach was round, the line running along the centre of it that showed up on most pregnant people, but still reminded Tilly of an Easter egg: fragile. She loved leaving her hand over it, feeling like the palm of it was protecting the little bean inside. Evie always melted under her when she did.
“It will be.”
* * *
Weirdly, Tilly was genuinely interested in this job. One could even say excited. Social media marketing positions were constantly changing. She would learn a lot that she would otherwise have missed by only working within her own small sphere. Having a client base was great, and she did make good money. But she had to work twice as hard to do so. Tilly turned her jobs out quicker than a company would. She spoke to clients more, sometimes outside of office hours, which ate up time that wasn’t billable. The idea of having stable income, with set hours, was both overwhelming and welcome. She thought she’d feel trapped, but the promise of security appealed to her even more.
She’d surprised herself when her first rejection had done nothing except make her more determined.
For now.
Tilly was worried, there was no denying that. Self-doubt gnawed at her, along with a dose of self-deprecation, both telling her maybe she didn’t deserve to feel as happy as she did right now.
But the desire for happiness outweighed anything else. She would push forward.
Tilly walked into this interview far more comfortably than the other ones she’d had. The owners, James and Clara, both shook her hand and gave her a short company tour. The office was all glass, third floor in a very fancy building that boasted a view of the river. A far cry from where she usually worked, at home or pressed into a corner of a café. The staff leaned towards the young side, as was often true in this field. There was a fifty-fifty split in this office between men and women, which was refreshing in any job.
James and Clara had begun the business in one of their houses: a start-up with almost no funding. They were twin brother and sister who set out to shake things up. They wanted people who were passionate, part of a team, and who worked hard. They told her they initially hadn’t been sure about her as she only had a year and a half of experience in a company after university, but added they were very impressed with her portfolio.
After thirty minutes of questions and light chatting, they thanked her for coming in and promised she would hear from them by the end of the week.
Tilly managed to hide her uncertainty with a bright smile. As soon as she was clear of the office, she called Sean.
“That all sounds like a standard interview to me!” he said, far too jovially.
“But is it good or bad it was only thirty minutes?” she asked as she slid between the closing doors of the train before she had to wait a full thirty minutes for the next one. Perth public transport was the worst.
“Could be either.”
“They said they weren’t sure about me as I didn’t have much experience in a company.”
“Can’t blame them.”
“But they said really good things about my portfolio.”
“That’s a plus.”
“None of this is helping me figure out if it went well or not.” Tilly slipped onto a seat, the train practically empty at eleven-thirty on a Tuesday morning.
“Welcome back to the rat race.”
“Ha. Right.”
“I’m sure it went fine.”
“I did wear The Pants.”
“You did?” He sounded delighted. “Did Evie see them?”
Tilly laughed. “She did, on her way out to work. You were right, she loves the way my butt looks in them. She couldn’t take her hands off—”
“Hey! No!”
“What?” She grinned, glad the train was empty. “You were the one that pointed it out to me, and I’m so grateful. First her mouth dropped open a little, and then she grabbed—”
“La la la! I can’t hear you!”
“Sean, she—”
He’d already hung up.
* * *
The email inviting Tilly to the group interview arrived on Friday evening while she was on Evie’s couch, with Evie’s head in her lap. She made a squeaking sound.
“What?” Evie asked, eyes opening to glance up at her.
“I got into the second round of interviews.”
Evie blinked, a slow smile growing on her lips. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
Tilly stared down at the email. “I didn’t think I’d get it.”
“Well, they’d be stupid not to hire you.”
“I don’t know,” Tilly said.
“Hey,” Evie said, her voice serious. Tilly looked down at her, one of her hands still in Evie’s hair. “You’re amazing and they’d be stupid not to hire you.”
She was so sincere, so adamant, that Tilly froze, caught in her gaze. “Are you sure about that?” she whispered.
Evie smiled, as if she were about to joke but was layering something true to soften it. Or to make it easier to say. “If you’re not going to take off, then I’m one hundred per cent serious.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Evie turned her head, pressing her nose into Tilly’s belly. “Good. I’m all attached now.”
Tilly grinned. “Well then.” She looked back down to her laptop, typing out a reply. “Lucky I’m telling them now I can attend any of the suggested dates and times for the interview. Then they’ll know I’m serious.”
She typed quickly, scanning the email once more before clicking send. When she looked back down, Evie was gazing back up at her, still smiling, the strange mix of mirth and something hidden playing at the edges.
“You see? They’re lucky.”