Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Look at you. You’re going to be walking in no time,” I tell her as she reaches over and steadies her hand on Amanda’s shoulder. She’s still a little too far away, so Amanda scoots in, helping her. Mia squeals with delight as she reaches her mom and takes a couple of wobbly steps toward her.
Silence settles between us, and not the peaceful kind. It’s charged with things we need to say but haven’t. I’ve never been one to hide behind my choices, so I clear my throat and start us off. “I don’t want, nor do I need, your apology.” I keep my tone soft, almost tender, hoping like hell my earlier anger and frustration are nowhere to be seen.
“What I did was wrong,” Amanda replies, twisting her fingers together in her lap.
“Why?”
“What?” she asks, her brow furrowing.
Mia makes her way back to me and climbs onto my lap. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I cuddle her close, gently rubbing her back. “Why was it wrong, Mandy?” I ask her, my tone softer now, not wanting to disturb Mia. It’s late, and I’m sure close to, if not past, her bedtime.
“Bellamy is my best friend. Kissing you betrayed her.”
There it is. The safe answer. “Did it feel wrong?” I know I shouldn’t be pushing this, but I need to know if that kiss affected her as much as it did me. I study her face, searching for what, I’m not sure, as my hand continues to gently rub Mia’s back. Her body relaxes into me, and my heart melts for this little girl and her momma.
“No,” she whispers.
I know I shouldn’t push. I know I’m teetering on the edge of something that could unravel more than I’m prepared to handle. But I need to know. I need to know if that moment wrecked her the way it wrecked me. If she’s been replaying it in quiet rooms. If it lingers on her lips the way it lingers on mine.
Her gaze drops to Mia, then lifts back to me. The room is so quiet I can hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, the steady rhythm of Mia’s breathing against my neck.
I hold steady, my eyes never leaving hers. Amanda’s composure cracks. I can see it in the way her shoulders fall, and her voice thins when she whispers, “No.”
The word lands between us, heavier than any apology. Mia shifts in my arms, sighing softly, and I know she’s asleep, unaware that the world around her has just tilted.
Amanda’s eyes shine, not with regret, but with something far more dangerous. Something honest. And suddenly, the silence doesn’t feel empty anymore. It feels like a new door quietly unlocking.
It feels like a new beginning.
I clear my throat and stand. “Let me put her in Coral’s bed. Then we can talk.” I wait for her approval. She nods and stands, as well, following me upstairs to my granddaughter’s bedroom.
Stepping into the dark room, I turn on the small lamp that serves as a nightlight. The glow is so dim that it doesn’t offer much, just enough light to see where I’m going. I place Mia into the bed and cover her tiny body. She sighs, and I smile.
“Goodnight, sweet girl,” I whisper, bending to kiss her forehead. Amanda steps next to me and does the same thing. “Light on or off?” I ask in a whisper.
“On,” she whispers back.
With a nod, I reach over and turn on the baby monitor. I’ll turn on the receiver in the living room when we get back downstairs. I have them all over my house for when Coral stays with me. Taking her hand in mine, I tangle our fingers together and guide her out of the room.
I love the feel of her soft hand in mine. I can hear each breath she drags into her lungs, and then I think about the kiss, how soft her lips felt, and I need to taste them again. I need to make sure I didn’t make it all up. Instead of heading downstairs, I turn to step in front of her, and she takes a step back. We repeat this dance a few times until her back hits the wall, just beside my bedroom door. We didn’t even make it to the stairs.
Letting go of her hand, I slide my arm around her waist and step closer. My other arm rises above me and presses against the wall, forcing me to leave a small amount of space between us, space I don’t want, but space I know that we need.
I tilt my head, and our eyes lock as she peers up at me. My breathing matches hers, labored and intense. I want to kiss her more than I need the oxygen I’m struggling to pull into my lungs. Instead, I press my forehead against hers, feeling her hot breath, wishing I could kiss her. I know she said she didn’t regret it, but she wanted to apologize, and I’ll never be the kind of man who takes what’s not his.