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“I never will. And I’ll never allow anything to break us apart.”
His chest rises and falls, and it’s like a load is lifted off his shoulders. “Thank fuck.”
I don’t know what’s running through his head, but after this, I’m more determined for us to get some counselling. My man is hard as nails, but a man can only take so many knocks, and Winter has taken more than his fair share. We’ve each been engrossed in our own pain the last few months; it’s time we shared it again and getting counselling will hopefully help us do that.
6
Lily
* * *
I stare at the bon bons scattered in torn pieces on the kitchen floor and have to work hard to stifle the scream lodged in my chest. It’s 10:00 a.m. and I have a club full of families arriving in two hours for our Christmas barbecue, and now I have no fucking Christmas bon bons. On top of that, we still have no air conditioning. King can’t fix it, and because it’s Christmas Day, he can’t find anyone who can. Also, Travis is still not completely well again, and he’s been far more needy than usual this morning. I told King it’s because of the heat in an effort to force him to find me a miracle cure for the air conditioning. That went down as well as can be expected, i.e. he lost his shit at me. I know I’m being a bitch today, but I. Don’t. Care. It’s fucking hot and no woman should be expected to run Christmas in this kind of heat.
“Mum, Meredith is hogging the Xbox. She won’t let me and Travis have a go,” Cade says from behind me.
I spin to face him. I knew this Xbox was going to be the bane of my existence, but King told me it would be their favourite Christmas present. It might be, but it isn’t mine. “Where’s your father?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“You go find him and ask him to help you sort this out. I’ve got a mess of bon bons to sort out.” My temperature is rising and it’s not just from the lack of cold air.
Cade scowls but turns to do as I said.
“Cade,” I call out as he walks away. “Any idea who did this to the bon bons?”
“Travis,” he calls back.
Taking a deep breath, I remind myself it’s a crime to kill your own children.
I must not go to jail.
I must not go to jail.
I must not go to jail.
“Lily, darling,” my mother says as she glides into the kitchen, twirling in her new skirt. “Brynn just called and she can’t drop off the salads she promised to bring over.”
I stare at her, willing her to take those words back. “Why not?” We’ve had this planned for weeks. Weeks. On their way to Jamie’s parents for lunch, they were going to drop off five huge salads. Salads I need to help me feed all the people coming today.
Mum looks at me like I’m a crazy person. “They’re having car trouble. She said you’d be better off getting someone to collect them.” Frowning, she adds, “Is everything okay, darling?”
If I still smoked, I’d smoke an entire packet right now.
“Take a look at the kitchen floor, Mum. Does everything look okay? Do you feel okay in this hot-as-fuck house? Can you even hear yourself with all the noise the kids are making?”
The sound of boots thudding on the floor causes me to turn, coming face to face with King. He directs his attention to Mum and says, “Hannah, can you give us a minute?”
“I think it might be a good idea,” Mum murmurs before leaving us alone.
King’s eyes come back to me. “What’s going on?”
I gesture at the floor. “Look at what your son did to the bon bons.”
He takes a look but doesn’t seem as perturbed as I am.
I don’t give him the chance to say anything before saying, “That’s all the bon bons, King. All of them! I have zero spares.”
“For fuck’s sake, Lily, they’re just bon bons. Who did it?”
