Standing on the other-side of the front door, he could hear noises coming from inside. Grunts and screeching of wood against the floorboards.
Josh gently turned the key. They'd not been going out for too long, and she had only given him a key the week before. He hid the flowers behind his back as he slipped off his Blundstone.
Again, there was the sound of Skye grunting. He reaches the French doors of the lounge room, and he peers in. She is pushing a large Christmas tree into place, right in front of the large windows overlooking the street.
A flood of thoughts cross his mind and anger surges. He wants to make his presence felt, to let her know that he's there, but he also realises that this is her place. She has every right to put up anything she wants in her house.
He slips back out the front door, bins the flowers downstairs, and walks to the Espy.
He knows no-one at the bar, so stands against the bar watching the usual crowd. He wants to form the words to express the shock of seeing a Christmas tree in a house he was thinking of moving into. But there is too much to pack into something as simple as a sentence.
It serves him right for dating someone not from his world. Of course she'd be bringing into the relationship her own baggage. They'd not discussed any of it. They were in love, but history never cared for love.