Forty-Four
Memory 23
I raced up the steps and flung open the front door.
Again, I don’t know what came over me. I always, always, always rang the bell. Even after ten months. I’d been letting myself into Jed’s house since a couple of weeks after we met. His parents never batted an eyelid, even as I helped myself to a handful of his mum’s fancy homemade biscuits and switched on the telly to MTV.
Maybe, in my excitement, I’d imagined I was at Jed’s house instead of Viggo’s. Maybe I really didn’t think anything of letting myself in.
He was my boyfriend, after all. My boyfriend of ten months. Surely it was normal to treat his house as my own.
At least, that’s what I thought until I heard his fury.
“Constance! What in heaven’s name are you doing?”
I stopped dead in the middle of the Mac
