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I understand anyway. Still his. Still tangled into him somewhere deep where logic doesn’t reach, because even monsters leave roots.
I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his knuckles, feeling the delicate bones beneath my lips. “You’re allowed to care what happens to her.” I see the conflict warring in his expression. “And I’m allowed to think she deserved a hell of a lot worse.”
That earns the tiniest huff of laughter—barely more than an exhale—but it’s something.
“Now,” I say, watching him visibly gather himself, “the amount you originally saved is yours to use for school costs.”
His brows pull together. “All of it?”
“If you want.”
“But that was supposed to pay for an apartment and books and clothes and supplies and everything.” His gaze flicks to the sewing machine sitting between us like some gleaming mechanical idol, then back to me.
“Then use it for books, clothes, supplies, whatever you need when you start. And obviously, you won’t be needing an apartment. I’ll drive you or something. We’ll figure it out.”
He swallows visibly. “And… tuition?”
“I’m paying it.”
Silence falls, complete and absolute.
Kamden stares at me like I just informed him I intend to buy the entire university building by building. “No.” The word comes out breathless.
I almost laugh at the sheer disbelief. “No?”
“No.” Firmer this time.
“That wasn’t really a question.”
He straightens abruptly, panic replacing disbelief. “Daddy, no.” He shakes his head slowly, as if trying to clear water from his ears. “You can’t pay for my school.”
“I absolutely can.”
His hands flutter nervously before stilling on his knees. “It’s expensive.”
The understatement makes me smile. “I know.”
His throat works as he swallows again. “For four years.”
The kid really thinks I don’t understand how time works. “I know what college is, Kammie.”
His face is going pink now, splotches of color high on his cheekbones. “You don’t understand.” The words come out rushed, tumbling over each other.
Now I do laugh. “Sweetheart, I assure you I understand tuition.”
His face is going red. “I already have the scholarship, so some of it is covered, but there’ll still be—there are fees and books and fabric and supplies, and I don’t even know how much everything is going to cost, and—”
“I’ll pay it. Whatever the cost.”
He goes quiet, his mouth still half-open as if the words got stuck on the way out. His face drains of color, eyes wide and fixed on me—not relief, not gratitude, but something closer to terror.
It hits me like a punch to the sternum because I know exactly where it comes from.
Nothing has ever been free for Kamden.
Not food.
Not housing.
