Recovering Amy (Amy, #2)

Chapter 17: Forgiven

Chapter Seventeen

FORGIVEN

June

Over the next month, Amy was passionate about her role in their house-hunting scheme. Nearly every day, whilst Matthew was at work, she would pore over real estate catalogues and internet sites, browsing through nearly each and every house within their price margin in their desired neighbourhoods of residence.

                After only two weeks, Amy had developed a lengthy list of features she wanted in a home, and singled out the homes that she admired. The whole process was the complete opposite of how they’d bought their current home – the first one in their price margin that did not have a novel of terms and conditions in the finest print.

                They were really searching for the perfect home.

                And after getting over the shock of Amy’s determination – and her subsequent psychological improvement – Matthew conceded to begin attending auctions in their favoured neighbourhoods to get a proper understanding of the prices they would be looking at, and what kinds of homes were on offer.

                On one weekend in early June, they stood under a tarp in the pouring rain as the auctioneer shouted out prices. It was a three-bedroom home in the next suburb from Amy’s mother. Amy wanted to be close to her family, but not that close. This auction was merely to figure out a price range – the house was almost exact to Amy’s taste.

                “$750,000,” the auctioneer boomed, “thank you, $760,000 – wait, $77 – no, $78,000 from the couple in front…”

                It was a battle between three bidders, each eager to purchase their perfect home. At $800,000, the home finally sold, and everyone else gave the mandatory applause.

                “I think it’s time for lunch – I’m starving,” Amy said as she and Matthew made their way to the car under the shelter of an umbrella.

                Matthew drove to the town’s shopping centre where they took to Amy’s favourite café as a teenager. It was right in the centre of the complex, one of the many shops lining the huge indoor playground where several families were watching their children.

                As they waited for their meals, Amy pored over another real estate catalogue whilst Matthew returned some business calls.

                “Amy?” a distantly familiar voice asked. “Amy Carter!”

                Amy drew her attention to the person walking to the foot of their table. Matthew looked up, too, though with daggers – she was Amy Hamilton, and he was proud of that fact.

                Amy’s mouth opened with shock as she realised who it was that was now standing adjacent to her. “Scott! I haven’t seen you in ages!” She stood up and they hugged, laughing at the odds that they would come across one another. “Sit down, sit down,” she rushed, taking her own seat as Scott took the one beside her. “How’ve you been?”

                Before Scott – tall, dark and handsome – could reply, Matthew cleared his throat, having never met this person before in his entire life. And it was strange that Amy seemed to know him so well – she had never mentioned a Scott before.

                “Sorry, Matt,” she apologised, seeming to suddenly remember that she was having lunch with her husband. “Matt, this is Scott. Scott, this is my husband, Matt.”