The Science of Starting Again//Book Five

Chapter 22~ Mirror Image

Mary's P.O.V

It had been a month since the altercation at 221B. Since then I had continued to work, seeing John every single day. It was like I didn't exist, though. He was cold towards me, only speaking to me when he absolutely had to. Multiple times I had tried to speak to him but he wasn't having a bar of it. These past few days I had just given up asking when he would be coming home. I had gotten used to eating dinner by myself and the silence of our house. The baby wasn't causing too much trouble, the morning sickness just bearable. If John wanted to keep avoiding our situation then fine. I had lived by myself for years, I could do it all again if need be, even with a baby on board. Still, there was no denying that I missed him.

I was reading at the table when there was a knock at my door. This was the first time in a month that someone had knocked on the door, and I couldn't help but think that it was John. Standing up, I quickly checked myself in the living room mirror before heading towards the door. Soon, though, my heart dropped down to my stomach when I saw the figure through the frosted glass of the door. Short, with wild hair and a leather jacket; of course it was Teddy Holmes. I could feel acid growing and bubbling in the pit of my stomach, a flash of anger passing over me. She was the last person I wanted to see. I began to head back towards the kitchen and pretend I wasn't home when I heard her call out.

"Mary, I can see you. I know you're home so let me in or so help me-"

I opened the door, eyes set on the woman in front of me. She stared back, blue-grey eyes a stone wall, her head held high and shoulders pulled back. I wondered what she wanted, part of me fearing that I already knew the answer: I always thought that Teddy would be the type to get revenge, and killing the woman who had shot her brother and married her ex seemed like a good reason to do exactly that.

"Did John send you?" I asked, folding my arms and looking at her. I would not come off as a weak pregnant woman. If she had come here for what I thought, she would have a fight on her hands.

"Why would John send me?" Teddy questioned, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Well, you obviously know what's going on between us at the moment. I'd be surprised if you haven't made your move on him," I sniffed with a scowl. "You two are so close, and after all, he taught you how to love again-"

"The person that used to love John is dead and gone now. Two and a half years in Hell killed her with electricity and fire. The alcohol helped too," she replied in an icy voice. "And anyway, I'm with Greg. I love Greg now. Also, I don't think you should be getting so snippy with me."

"Why not?" I muttered, rolling my eyes. A flash of fire passed through her eyes and she took a step forward so she was nearly inside the house.

"Because I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks, and that means that my patience levels are very low. And trust me: recovering alcoholics are scarier than ex-assassins," she snapped, before pushing her way into the house. Although part of me wanted to give her a good, hard shove out of the house, I didn't. Instead, I stumbled against the door and just gave her a scowl that followed her into the room.

"Also," Teddy continued, looking around the house. "You shouldn't get pissy with a recovering alcoholic whose brother you shot only a month ago. Surprisingly, they don't like it when someone pulls shit like that. Makes them angry."

"I'll remember that for next time," I said, closing the door and watching her with eagle eyes. She laughed, a stiff, wooden sound that made me frown.

"Oh, there won't be a next time, I assure you," she murmured before taking a seat at the table. I didn't move towards her. Instead, I stood beside the front door, watching her with cautious eyes. I was waiting for that shift in the air when suddenly all the hostility and sarcasm would leave the room, replaced with pure hatred that would leave one of us dead. The tension was so thick in the air between us I thought I could feel it on my tongue, it's taste like burnt custard. Two sets of blue eyes stared at one another, each person waiting for the other to break the silence. In the end I did, tilting my head to the side.