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“That’s because he was lying. And you believed every lie that left his lips…” I pause, taking a breath. “But that’s okay. I saw it for both of us.”
“You aren’t the hero in my story, Adora. You are the villain.”
I walk to the closet where my things are stored and grab a pair of pajamas. Taking a deep breath because I’m fighting for sanity, I reply to her, “I’m happy being the villain. If you wouldn’t mind, I need to shower.”
“You know, if you haven’t killed him, he is going to want his son back.”
“He can try.” I smile, looking right into her eyes.
The door opens again, and Sailor is there.
She looks between Abigail and me. “I can come back another time?” she says hesitantly.
“I was just leaving,” Abigail tells her. “Going out tonight. Don’t wait up.” She waves before she walks out.
“Family, huh?” She laughs.
“Do you have a sister?”
“Oh, God, no. I’m an only child.” Her eyes shift to Jerome. “He looks like you. I just wanted to check that you’re okay. I had heard…” She doesn’t say it, instead choosing to trail off, but one look at my face, and you can see the bruising.
“I’m good. Excited to sleep next to my son and wake up with him tomorrow.”
“I really am sorry. Please let me know what I can do.”
“No need to be sorry.” I wave her off. “I would love to bring Jerome around to meet Wren, if that’s okay? Maybe in the next few days?”
“Of course.” She looks behind her before turning back to me. “Keir is calling me. I’ll pop back in a few days. Give you a bit to get settled.”
“Sailor…” I suck in a breath before I say what I need to say—she may have insight that I don’t.
“Hmm…” Her hand pauses on the door.
“He hates me.”
“You hurt him. Give him time.” She closes the door, leaving me alone with my son.
It’s been a long time since I felt safe with Jerome. But that night, I sleep the best I ever have.
* * *
Jerome is notnext to me when I open my eyes, and that realization jolts me awake. Heart pounding, I jump from the bed and run to the bathroom, trying to find him. When he’s not there, I rush out of the room and down the stairs, my eyes frantically searching. As I reach the bottom, I find him sitting at the kitchen counter with Joey in front of him. Their heads turn my way when I release a gasp of air.
“We’re cooking pancakes,” Jerome says happily, and my chest warms at seeing him so content. “And did you see the puppy, Mummy?” Joey turns his back to me as he goes back to cooking. I walk over and wrap my arms around Jerome’s waist to hug him from behind.
“Puppy?” I ask, confused.
A little dog comes running around the corner, straight to Joey.
Becca’s dog—he must have agreed to take her.
I wasn’t sure if he would keep her but seems he did.
“Are you helping?” I ask, looking at Jerome because Joey does not want to pay me a lick of attention.
“I did. I stirred, and Mr. Rossi said he will do the cooking.”
“His name is Joey. You can call him Joey,” I tell him before pulling away and speaking to Joey’s back. “Thank you. You didn’t have to cook for him.”
