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He looks at Andie. “What did you have for dinner, sweetie?”
“I just told you. We’re doing an ice cream tasting contest for dinner. I think I prefer Rocky Road like Jade.”
He gives me a dirty look. “Not exactly a nutritious meal.”
He gives her ice cream for dinner at least twice a month. He’s got nerve.
I smile at Andie. “Do you want to see if your painting is dry? If it is, wrap it up to take to school tomorrow.”
“Okay. I think Dylan is going to love it.” She happily skips off toward the studio.
As soon as she’s out of earshot I snap at Beckett. “What is your problem?”
“It’s not exactly thrilling to get a Google alert with photos of you, Andie, and Lou laughing in the grocery store. He had his fucking hands on you. Touching you. You’re mine. Not his.”
“Are you crazy? We were laughing at him about his ice cream flavor choice. He was embarrassed and trying to quiet us.”
“He shouldn’t ever touch my property.”
“Your property?”
He barks, “Yes!”
“What century do we live in? I’m not your property, Beckett.”
“You know what else you’re not? Andie’s mother. You don’t get to decide when she does and doesn’t eat ice cream for dinner.”
“Go to hell, Beckett. I don’t need this. I’m leaving. I can’t deal with you when you get like this.”
I start heading for the front door.
“That’s right. Do what you always do when things aren’t a perfect fucking fairytale. Go back toyourhouse.”
I turn back. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You were married for four years to a man who lives in New York, yet you never sold your house. You always have one foot out the door. You’re ready to escape at a moment’s notice.”
“I kept it for Jade. She was in high school when I got married.”
“And what about when she left for college?”
“You know what, I don’t have to justify shit to you. The spoiled rich boy didn’t get his way tonight so he’s having a temper tantrum. Call me when you grow up.”
I walk out the door and leave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BECKETT
Ididn’t sleep all night. I know I’m an asshole. I saw the pictures online of Lou with his hands on her and all I saw was red.
I walk down to the kitchen and see Karen. “Thanks for staying over.”
She nods as she examines the cut on my lip. Without saying a word, she fills a bag of ice and hands it to me.
She’s otherwise silent as she goes about preparing breakfast.
My phone rings and I see that it’s Mom. I accept the call. “Hey, Mom.”
