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This can’t be happening. Not like this. Notnow.
Not after the most blissful evening.
Not after I’d decided to bare my soul tonight and beg his forgiveness for my betrayal.
Not now that I know Ican’tlive without him in my life any longer.
My feet feel glued to the tarmacked driveway until Maggie appears in the doorway.
“Mr North? Holden radioed to say he thinks there’s a pap drone over the house.”
Jesse appears at my side, his face flushed with deep-seated rage, to hook his arm through mine and urge me towards the house. He’s tall for his age and strong enough to propel me forward with relative ease.
I glance backwards to find Ford helping Caden from the ground before heading towards the car to undoubtedly grab Bella. Caden’s eyes find mine, and my heart sinks when I find them utterly devoid of their usual warmth.
Absent of the love and laughter from earlier, to be replaced by a coldness I’ve never seen in him before.
When we reach the house, a stiff-spined Caden marches past us, calling over his shoulder. “My office, Summer. Five minutes.”
I shift my gaze to the side to find Jesse bristling with rage. “How dare he speak to you like that, Mom. Who the hell does he think he is?”
My stomach roils, knowing now that I’ve delayed the truth for far too long. Fifteen years too long.
“Come on, baby. I’ll get you something to eat.”
I move towards the kitchen, glancing around when I hear Ford cross the threshold with a sleeping Bella in his arms. His eyes are filled with judgement, but instead of cowering, I jut my chin out in defiance.
His assessment of the situation steels my spine in anticipation of what’s to come.
“What are you doing here, baby? How did you fly on your own?” I set about making my son a sandwich as he slides onto a high stool at the breakfast bar.
“Well, I wasn’t going to put up with some British simp manhandling my mother and not do something about it, was I, Mom?” He tilts his blonde head to the side, his big sapphire eyes shining with a mixture of devilment and deviance.
It’s a look I know very well, though I’ve not witnessed it on my child’s face before, only his father’s.
“But how did you fly here? You’re a minor!”
He snorts a laugh. “Yeah, umm…well, Miguel Flores—you know the Connecticut camp leader, right?” I nod, and he continues. “Well, he saw the clip. It’s gone viral, in case you weren’t aware—”
I cut him off. “I wasn’t.”
Kill me now.
“Well, Miguel felt all kinds of bad for me. I was really pissed off—”
“Language, Jesse!”
He shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry.”
I place a plate with a ham salad sandwich before him, and he takes a bite before continuing to speak around the mouthful.
“So Miguel’s wife, Melinda, had business in London and flew with me.”
I’ll be having words with Miguel—well-intentioned or not!
“And how exactly did you find where Caden lives?”
Jesse smirks devilishly around a mouthful of sandwich, shooting me a cheeky nod that’s entirely too like his father's. “Remember when I didn’t want you to put that tracker app on my cell?”
