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“I should head home,” Octavia says, dropping a kiss on Cole’s hair. He looks up and smiles at her, and it hurts to see him happy.
Hurts in a good way.
“You’ll come back tomorrow, right?” Mary asks.
“Of course I will.” She ruffles my daughter’s hair. “Now be good and eat your dinner.”
“Stay!” Mary says, and it’s my turn to tense up.
They’re getting attached. This could end badly, because Octavia won’t be here always.
Nobody ever stays forever.
“I can’t, baby.” Octavia hugs Mary and gets up. “I have to get home.”
She pulls on her coat, grabs her purse and walks quickly to the door, probably predicting an oncoming crying fit.
I jump to my feet, following her. “Running home to your boyfriend?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest.
Her eyes widen. “That’s none of your business.”
She doesn’t deny it, though. “It is my damn business, if it affects my family.”
This time she gives me an incredulous look. “How would that affect your family?”
“You tell me. Maybe Ross is jealous of any man who’s near you.”
Her face pales and she grabs the door handle. “I have to go.”
“Yeah, run along to your boy toy.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hisses. “You don’t act that way with everyone. Why are you always so awful with me?”
Shock hits me. Tears shimmer in her eyes, and when I open my mouth to speak, I can’t find the words.
What the fuck… She’s right. I’m a fucking asshole to her, all the fucking time.
Throwing the door open all the way, she hurries out and down the steps, into the night. I watch her until she is swallowed by the darkness, belatedly wondering if I should have walked her to the bus stop, if I should have offered her a ride.
Wondering why I never have.
Why I treat her like that. Why I want her so badly.
Hours later, lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling like every night, I still have no explanation.
Chapter Sixteen
Octavia
“Hey you.” Adam pushes off the fence where he’s leaning, like always, and smiling at me.
He looks good, his brown curls tousled, his gaze bright. He’s wearing a khaki shirt that brings out the green of his eyes.
Something inside me relaxes when I see him. The implications of what Matt told me had frightened me. Ross wouldn’t go crazy like that, would he? To go around threatening any guy hanging out with me?
It’s true he especially liked bullying me at school—even more than he did the average classmate—but that doesn’t mean anything…
Does it?
