Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Bentley draws and paints most of the afternoon as I wander around the house, cleaning things just to keep myself busy because I don’t know what else to do. A part of me wants to know what Dutton is doing to Bobbi, while the other part is scared to find out the answer.
Just as the sun sets, there’s a knock on my door. I take a deep breath before I answer it. I’m not going to lie; I assumed it would be Dutton. But when I pull open the door, it’s an older version of him staring back at me.
Dawson smiles at me, then his gaze flicks from my eyes to my jaw and then back again.
He doesn’t look thrilled at what he sees. He has that same hard line on his forehead that Dutton sometimes gets when he’s angry or contemplating something.
“Dutton asked us to stop by,” he says.
“You didn’t have to come,” I tell him, just as Honey, who I didn’t see, comes up beside him with a bag of food.
“Hello, Posie. I hope it’s okay if we join you for dinner. We brought food.” She holds up the bag, and Bentley runs out, spotting Dawson. Dawson scoops him into his arms as Bentley starts telling him about his day. I hold the door open for them, welcoming the distraction. I know they’re here to ensure we’re safe, which fills me with so much love and gratitude that I don’t even know how to process it.
I feel like I’m not so alone. Going forward, I already know I don’t have to fight my battles alone.
Once again, I feel like part of a family.
Honey says something, but I don’t hear her at first. Then, it registers that she is asking where the kitchen is. I wave my hand in that general direction, and as she passes me, she grabs my hand and gives it a small squeeze.
Dawson’s already sitting on the living room floor, where Bentley shows him how to paint something. And I notice that my anxiety eases now that they’re here. I guess this is what it’s like to have support from people who love you.
I don’t even have to question whether they accept Bentley and me because they have from the moment they meet us. My sense of self-preservation and fear prevented me from seeing that.
I follow Honey into the kitchen, where I find her searching through cabinets for plates. I point to where they are.
“So, I bake. It’s what I enjoy and what I do when I’m stressed,” she says as she pulls out a tray of cupcakes. “How are you holding up? And please don’t tell me everything’s okay. I know what it’s like to be a mother and worry about my child.”
That’s exactly what I was going to tell her, but a lump forms in my throat, and instead, I choke out, “I’m sorry.” Her eyes widen, and she puts the tray down. I’m startled when she wraps me in her arms. I awkwardly hug her back, whispering, “I’ve caused a lot of trouble for you all.”
“You haven’t caused any trouble for us,” she says, leaning back so I’m forced to look at her. I laugh at myself as I wipe my eyes. “Have you forgotten that our family’s middle name is trouble?”
“But you didn’t have to do any of this for me. I know what it might cost your family.”
“It costs us nothing. We look after our own, no matter what,” she says adamantly. “Posie, you have my gratitude.”
“What?” What did I do to deserve that from her?
Honey bites her bottom lip as if she’s unsure as to whether she should continue. She squeezes my arm as she focuses on the food in front of her. “I was worried for my son. I thought he was closing himself off to the possibility of having a life like this.”
“Like this?” I ask curiously, leaning against the counter and wiping beneath my eyes.
“With someone he loves,” she clarifies.
My stomach drops because a small part of me is still so scared that this could be ripped away from me. What if I make the wrong choice? It’ll impact Bentley as well.
“Dutton was an easy child growing up. Too easy. He was inquisitive and intelligent but mischievous and calculated. And he was very protective of his sister. That ease, we realized, was him acting in the ways he thought was expected of him. As a teenager, he became a little less easy to control. Not that we wanted to control him, but we guided him to stop picking fights with everyone, so he did stop… publicly, that was,” she says, eyeing me, and I can’t help but smile.
“He became more distant in adulthood and only focused on following in his father’s footsteps. I don’t think Dutton realizes it himself, but he adopted all the good qualities from Dawson, readying himself to be a provider and protector. But whenever we asked if he met anyone, I felt the moment he shut down as if that wasn’t a viable option for him. It felt like he hated something about himself, and that terrified me. Looking back, we probably didn’t have the right conversations around it,” she admits. “But even when they’re adults, your children are still your children. You want to guide them as best as possible and see them happy. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my son genuinely happy. Not until you came along, Posie.” She plates up two cupcakes. “He’d never brought a woman around to meet us before you.” She smirks. “And Billie told me he asked you to marry him.”