Runaway Bride: A laugh out loud funny and feel good rom com. Mary Baker Jayne

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      ‘He didn’t really tell the neighbours you were on a two-month residential editing course?’

      ‘Apparently.’ I couldn’t help smiling too. It was pretty funny, in a grim sort of way. ‘I suppose telling everyone I’m off learning the art of the possessive apostrophe is a bit less humiliating than admitting your new wife walked out on you right after the wedding.’

      ‘So where do we find this passport then?’

      ‘Bureau in the study. Come on. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.’

      Jack tiptoed after me as I made my way through the living room and up the stairs. Even though Ethan wasn’t there, it felt like our new hobby of house burglary should be conducted in stealth mode.

      ‘This was your home?’ Jack whispered.

      ‘Yeah.’

      ‘It’s a bit bare, isn’t it?’

      I glanced around at the white walls, unsullied with anything as vulgar as a picture, and the naked boards of the floor.

      ‘It’s minimalist. Ethan likes that.’

      ‘Seems pretty sterile to me.’

      I pushed open the study door. ‘It’ll be in here. Bottom drawer.’

      But when I knelt and opened the drawer where the passports were usually kept, there was nothing but a pile of old bank statements. I felt a stab of panic.

      ‘It’s not here, Jack!’

      ‘What?’

      ‘My passport. It always lives here. Oh God! He’s not hidden it, has he? Taken it to work? I bet he knew I’d be back for it and he… bastard!’

      I started rifling frantically through the drawer, chucking the bank statements here, there and everywhere as I tried to find the passport. If I couldn’t get my hands on it, the only other way I could prove my identity was with my birth certificate, and I had no idea where that was. At Mum’s somewhere, probably, and I sure as hell wasn’t going there for it. It’d taken my last shred of courage to risk coming here.

      ‘Kitty…’

      ‘It’s not here, Jack! What the hell’s he done with it? I can’t go without it.’

      ‘Kitty!’

      I stopped rifling to look up at him. He was holding one of the bank statements, frowning at it.

      ‘What?’ I said. ‘Why do you look like that?’

      ‘Have you seen these? Did he ever let you see them?’

      ‘Bank statements? Well, no.’ I yanked open the drawer above the one I’d been searching and let out a sigh of relief when I spotted the little red passport nestling there. ‘Oh, thank God, it’s here. He’s been reorganising, that’s all.’ I scooped it up like an old friend and tucked it into my jeans back pocket. ‘Hey, wonder if we can find my bank card while we’re here? If he hasn’t already had it stopped, I might be able to make one big withdrawal before he gets wise and cancels it.’

      ‘You won’t be able to.’

      I frowned. ‘What?’

      ‘Kit, these statements—’

      He stopped, and my heart did too. Because there was a sound coming from downstairs. The sound of a key, turning in the lock. I jumped to my feet.

      ‘I thought you said he was at work!’ Jack hissed.

      ‘He is – I mean, he should be! Oh shit! What do we do, Jack?’

      ‘It’s too late. You’ll have to confront him.’

      ‘I told you I can’t!’ A panicked sob bubbled out of me. ‘We have to get out.’

      ‘You can do it. I’ll be here with you.’ He reached for my hand. ‘You’re stronger than you think you are, Kitty.’

      ‘No, please! You don’t know what he can do to me. Maybe we can hide until he—’

      But the deep voice that sailed up the stairs made it quite clear that wasn’t an option.

      ‘Kitty! Where are you? I know you’re here.’

      I felt like a cornered animal. My eyes darted around the little room, but there was no way out except the door. The door that any second now, if the footsteps on the stairs were anything to go by, would be filled by Ethan’s lean frame.

      ‘You don’t have to be afraid of him any more,’ Jack whispered, and he squeezed my shoulder.

      A second later… there was Ethan. Instinctively, I took a step backwards.

      ‘Kitty, darling! You’re really here.’

      I don’t know what I’d expected. Anger. Blame. But Ethan actually laughed with delight as he threw himself at me for a hug. ‘Mrs Bartholomew said you’d come home, but I wouldn’t believe it until I’d seen you,’ he said. ‘Oh my God, baby, I’ve missed you so much. So much. Don’t ever, ever scare me like that again, you hear?’

      I blinked helplessly at Jack as Ethan continued to embrace me.

      ‘It’s okay now,’ he said in a soothing voice, obviously under the impression I needed a bit of soothing. ‘Everything’s okay now, Kitty. We can make it okay.’

      ‘Ethan, please,’ I whispered. ‘Let me go.’

      ‘Yes, sorry. Sorry. I just had to feel you, make sure you were real.’ He released me from the hug, but he kept hold of my shoulders, regarding me with undisguised joy. ‘You’ve really come back to me. Thank God.’

      Jack, lounging against the wall observing it all, cleared his throat. Ethan turned to look at him, as if he was noticing him for the first time.

      ‘Kitty, who the hell is this?’

      ‘A friend,’ Jack said.

      Ethan’s eyes narrowed. For the first time, I think it dawned on him that my being there might not mean what he thought it meant.

      ‘I’m not staying,’ I mumbled, staring at the floor. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes. ‘I just came…’

      But the words stopped in my throat. There was something about his presence that, even now, even after what he’d done, still cowed me. I felt like a naughty little girl. I felt guilty for the obvious hurt in his eyes. I felt… exactly the way he’d trained me to feel when I’d upset him.

      ‘Of course you’re staying,’ he said firmly. ‘Look, I don’t know what happened to make you run off like that, Kitty. Nearly giving me a heart attack with worry—’ He took a deep breath to calm himself. ‘Well, never mind that, we can talk about it another time. For now, let’s just concentrate on the fact you’re home safe.’

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