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Story: The Scientist's Woman
London wouldn’t deny that one of the benefits of giving away her virginity would be that Zahn would no longer want her, but it hadn’t been the reason she gave it to Matt. If her goal had been to do what he’d accused her of, she could have done that on Thibius and risked her family’s wrath.
Love was the only reason she’d made love with him and she resented that he so easily believed the worst of her. She wanted to be angry and rage at him for being such a big fool, but actually taking the time to give it some thought, compassion and understanding made her realize that there was more to this that she wasn’t seeing.
She tried to think of things he’d said to give her some kind of clue to his feelings and then she remembered.You only did what I expected from the beginning.It was as though he was waiting for her to let him down. That was it. Someone had hurt him before.
It bothered her that someone may have crippled Matt emotionally so much so that he didn’t recognize true love when it was staring him in the face. She’d be damned if she allowed his past hurts to get in the way of what they had. He was her man and she’d fight for him. This wasn’t over by a long shot. Matt had been joking when he teased her about getting what she wanted. Mr. Taylor was going to find out just how true that was.
Chapter
Eight
“This is the place where we used to live?” London asked in awe as she stepped out of Matt’s truck. The little house before her seemed so familiar. Flashes of memory came back to her. She saw herself as a little girl, playing with her sister in the front yard, her mother indulgently watching on. She and Paris used to share a bed, even though they each had their own. They hated to be separated.
It all came back to her then. The night she and her mother were taken by the Adieaen slave hunters. She hadn’t been feeling well. Her mother left Paris with a lady from across the street. London wanted Paris to come with them, but her mother had insisted that it wouldn’t take long for her to get to the doctor and back. She’d cried for her sister, but the doctor had given her a lollypop to take back to Paris. On the way home, the car crashed, and that’s when her life had been forever changed.
“Yes, according to the information we found, this was the last known residence of your mother. Maybe one of the neighbors will know something about your sister.” His words sounded clipped and she tried to ignore his coldness. Since last night, they’d barely spoken.
She tried not to let the excitement of finding some clues about her sister be overshadowed by the way Matt was treating her. “What should we do now?”
“Well, it’s about the time when people would be home. We can try knocking on some doors. Does this place look familiar to you?”
“Yes. This is where I lived for the first two and a half years of my life. It’s strange that it’s all come back to me with just a look. The neighborhood has changed, and there are new houses here, but I definitely recall this place.”
“I don’t think it’s strange at all. Sometimes we repress memories as a protection mechanism. You obviously tried to forget because of the guilt you must have felt concerning your sister. Let’s get started before dinner time. People don’t take too kindly to having their dinner interrupted,” Matt suggested.
They first knocked on the door of her old house with the hopes of maybe learning some information. A little girl with a head full of plaits and barrettes answered the door. London knelt down to face her. “Hi, may I speak with your parents please?”
The child stared at them with wide eyed wonder and for a moment, she thought her request would be ignored when an older woman came to the door, a deep frown on her face.
“I’m not interested in reading the Watchtower. I’ve told you people not to come to my door anymore.”
London looked at Matt not knowing what this woman was talking about. He stepped forward. “I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, we’re not trying to sell anything or convert you. We’re just looking for information. You see, my friend lived here in this house twenty years ago, and she’s looking for the whereabouts of her sister who last lived here. They were separated when they were children.”
The woman’s face softened. “Oh, well that’s okay then. I’m not really sure how much help I can be. My husband, Tyrone, and I have only lived here for the last ten years. We’ve probably been here the longest.” She looked down at the little girl. “Shonda, go set the table for dinner.” The little girl continued to stare at them like a couple of oddities. “Shonda!” her mother said sharply.
The child rolled her eyes, and huffed off. London covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “She’s adorable.”
The woman sighed. “And too damn grown for her own good. I’m sorry, but if you’d like to come in and take a look at the old place, you’re very welcome to. My name is Shirley by the way, and you are?”
“I’m London and this is my… this is Matt.” What exactly were they? She couldn’t even introduce him as her friend because he barely spoke to her now.
“We’d love to take a look around.” Matt smiled at the pretty woman.
Jealously cut through London like a knife. She wished he’d smile at her like that, but he was such a stubborn fool.
Shirley showed them around the house. The inside had totally been remodeled. Some of the walls had been knocked down to make more room. Tears sprang to London’s eyes when she entered the bedroom she and Paris used to share. She felt an affinity for this place.
“This is my room,” the little girl called Shonda came in not looking too happy to find strangers there.
London smiled at her. “And it looks like you take very good care of it. You know, I used to sleep here too when I was a little girl.”
“That must have been a long time ago. You’re pretty old,” the little girl observed before stuffing a thumb in her mouth.
“Shonda! That was rude, and take that thumb out of your mouth. You know you’re too old for that,” scolded the mortified mother.
Shonda reluctantly tugged the thumb from her mouth, and sauntered out of the room again, but not before shooting London and Matt a venomous glare. London liked that kid.
“I’m really sorry. She’s usually a sweet girl,” Shirley apologized.