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I looked at myself in the mirror.
Yep, I still looked like I’d spent the night being fucked by a brute of a man. If you looked close enough, I was pretty sure I had the paw marks to prove it. I was deliciously sore everywhere. My hips and waist where he’d grabbed me, my skin raw and grazed by his stubble, the ache between my thighs that his cock had left behind.
Yeah, sneaking out the window sounded like a pretty solid plan right then.
Blowing out a sigh, I quietly unlatched the door and peered out to the disorder of voices and clanking dishes that echoed from the kitchen. All stealth-like, I crept down the short hall, feeling like I needed to be careful not to step on a landmine.
I peeked around the corner.
Ezra was in the kitchen with his kids. Olivia stood on a stool next to him, chattering away, Oliver was propped on the counter on the other side, and Owen was hanging onto his back and shouting that he was a koala in his adorable way.
Shiny locks of their white hair struck in the bright rays of light that flooded in through the window where the curtains had been fully drawn, their faces alight and their giggles unending as Ezra teased and talked with them as he pulled a big mixing bowl from the cabinet above them.
It was so lovely. So, so lovely that my heart shattered a little again, this beauty unfound.
I didn’t know if he’d heard me or sensed me, but Ezra shifted to look at me from over his shoulder.
And his smile…it was slow and adoring.
His attention had the rest of the kids turning to look my way, and Owen slid off his back when he saw me, and he hopped my way with that beaming smile on his face.
“My S’vannah. Is you gonna have bweakfast wif us?”
Affection tightened my chest, the oxygen nearing gone with the overpowering feeling that crashed over me.
“I—”
I started to speak only it clipped off when I noticed the figure who came to a grinding stop at the end of the children’s hallway.
Ezra’s mother.
I still had never spoken to her, had only caught glimpses of her when she’d been coming and going, except for when she’d come into the house last weekend after Ezra had been injured.
She’d been distraught then, terrified for her son, and we’d ushered the children out so quickly that there hadn’t been time for introductions to be made.
Right then, I could tell she was trying to force a smile that just wouldn’t come.
Stones toppled in my stomach, the discomfort so stark and bleak as it radiated across the room. I was suddenly having difficulty breathing for entirely different reasons.
I felt like an outsider, standing there.
A usurper.
Clearing his throat, Ezra drew attention back to himself. “I don’t think you two have officially met. Mom, this is Savannah. Savannah, my mother, Linda.”
I looked back at his mother. She’d managed a smile, but it was brittle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Savannah.”
Except there was no pleasure in her tone. There was only speculation and judgement and a form of surprised distaste so severe that it struck me like a kick to the chest.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I mumbled.
“Miss Savannah had a sleepover with my daddy, Grammy, just like us!” Oliver shouted.
Ugh.
This was the worst.
Humiliating.
It wasn’t like her son was a child, but God, she was looking at me like I’d stolen his innocence.
The strain was so intense that it mottled the air.
I didn’t know how to handle it. How to put Ezra through it. Not when he kept looking at me in apology. Not when he looked so uncomfortable.
I felt offset. An irregular puzzle piece that I was trying to make fit into this picture.
“Well, I think I should probably go. Give Grandma hugs.” She walked into the kitchen.
“Ah, man, don’t you want to stay? I thought we were supposed to have a special family breakfast? I’m going to make the most delicious eggs, Grams,” Olivia told her.
“You can make me eggs another time,” she said, kissing her on the top of the head.
Right. When I wasn’t there.
She hugged all the kids, gave Ezra an awkward goodbye, and barely cut a glance at me when she left out the front door.
Oh, but it cut.
I winced beneath the weight of it, then I full-on flinched when the door shut a little too hard behind her.
In unease, I shuffled. “I think I’m going to go out to the guest house really quick.”
I needed a second.
To take a breath and clear my head.
A moment to shake off the insecurity that flooded me like a dam breaking loose.
You don’t belong.
You don’t belong.
You never have and you never will.
I tried to block out the voices.
“Savannah…” Remorse filled Ezra’s tone, and he started my direction.
