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I snag a piece and pop it in my mouth, then immediately scrunch up my nose. “Eww!” I hurry and swallow it. “What flavor was that?”
Owen thinks it’s the funniest thing as I try to wash down the disgusting taste. He grabs the key and tries to match it with the one I had.
“It was coconut raspberry,” he explains, then finds another one in the batch and eats it. “Mmm, it’s good, Mom!”
I laugh at how he’s struggling to eat it just like I had. “Mm-hmm. I can tell by the look on your face.”
He quickly realizes how gross it is and runs to the kitchen. I hear him being dramatic as he spits it in the trash. Owen returns and pretends to scrape his tongue. “You’re right. That was disgusting!”
“I always loved these chocolates and never looked to see what kind they were. I wanted to be surprised. However, I’d learned to take a small bite before eating the whole thing because I didn’t want to commit to the ones I ended up not liking. Your grandma would find half-eaten chocolate every year.”
Owen snickers. “You’re funny.”
“You are,” I say, reaching over and poking his side. Immediately, he flinches, and I wiggle my fingers in a tickling motion.
“Noooooo,” he screeches, moving away from me. I motion with my eyes to clean up his mess, and he reluctantly does.
“Thank you,” I say, grabbing the empty glasses to take to the kitchen. After a while, I tell Owen to take a bath as I cook dinner.
When he’s out of the tub, I make our plates, and we sit at the table. “All your homework is done, right?” I ask, just as I do every Sunday night. Instead of checking for myself, I give him the responsibility to make sure it is. I’ve tried to teach him that his grades are his and not mine, so he has no one to blame but himself if he does poorly. Of course, I’ll always help if he asks for it, but for the most part, he’s good about finishing his assignments and turning them in on time.
“Yes, ma’am,” he tells me with a grin before taking a huge bite of his cheeseburger. As we eat, he tells me about his latest school project. Then asks how long until summer because he wants to go to Disney World like a few of his friends have gotten to.
“We’d have to plan that months in advance, sweetie. Maybe next year,” I say, though a trip like that would cost me most of what’s left in my savings. I’ve always wanted to surprise him, but right now, all my extra money is going into the new house.
Once our plates are cleared and the kitchen is clean, Owen and I watchBe My Valentine, Charlie Brown. He snuggles in close to me, and I soak in these little moments with him since he won’t want to much longer. Eventually, he’ll grow up and move out, then I’ll have to adopt a few dogs and cats to keep me company in that big ole house I bought. I squeeze him just a little tighter, knowing his teenage years are right around the corner.
Owen laughs at Lucy and Charlie Brown as I’m lost in my thoughts. Gabe would’ve loved spending time with Owen. Though years have passed, it’ll never erase the pain of my son not having a father to bond with and have these special times with him. Though he doesn’t have a dad in his life, I try hard to make sure he doesn’t feel any less loved.
When the movie ends, Owen brushes his teeth, then I walk him to his room. After he climbs into bed, I sit on the edge and admire the features he shares with his dad.
“Love you, sweetie,” I say as I cover him up, then hand him his stuffed bear my mom got him for Christmas last year.
“Love you too, Mom.”
“Sweet dreams. Good night, my love.” I kiss his forehead, then turn on his night-light.
On the way to my bedroom, I realize how secluded it feels to sleep alone. It’s been my life for so long now, so I should be used to it, but Valentine’s Day only reminds me that I’m still single.
CHAPTERSIX
NOAH
It's beenover two weeks since I was released from prison. I've wanted to go to Katie’s house and beg her to listen to me on more than one occasion, but I know it's a bad idea, considering how frustrated she was with me at the bank.
It’s another Monday, so this morning, I decide to do something special for my sister and Tyler. There's a donut shop that Gemma’s always adored that makes special pastries. I park my truck in the side lot at the gym, then walk into the donut shop.
Years may have passed, but Lawton Ridge is a time capsule. I take in the cool breeze and breathe in the fresh air. It's crazy how everything looks the same—the buildings, businesses, and town square. Before my life drastically changed, this was the last place I expected to be long-term because it was so boring. But now I realized how much I took that for granted because I can’t imagine ever leaving again.
The woman who owns the shop greets me with a smile. I lean over the glass case and look at everything. Food like this wasn't available in prison, so I feel like a king as I choose a dozen different cake donuts. If I remember correctly, Gemma's favorite is the blueberry, so I get an extra six of those.
After I pay and grab the box, I turn around and notice a woman and man staring at me. Another couple whispers, but they look away when I make eye contact. I don't even have to hear what they're saying to know they're talking about me. I wish the gossip didn’t run rampant because it makes starting over even harder.
My blood pressure rises and my face heats, so I get the hell out of there as quickly as I can. It felt like the walls were caving in on me.
I try to shake it off as I walk the few blocks back to the gym. Since I’ve been back, I’ve tried to ignore the way people have acted around me, but I can’t seem to let it go today. A man wearing a dark hoodie walks down the sidewalk and meets my eyes. He glares at me with intent right before his shoulder slams hard into my body. He mutters, “Murderer,” under his breath as he passes. I turn to look at him, but he keeps going.
My heart pounds, and I swallow hard. Though he’s taller than me, I'm five seconds from beating his ass. Instead, I inhale a deep breath and continue toward the gym. I don't need trouble finding me right now.
