Page 65 of Everything We Give

Billy pushed a brick with a fingertip, considering the request, then finally nodded. “I want to make two starships.” Billy scooped LEGOs onto his skirt, then stood, holding the skirt hem in a makeshift bucket.

“Go wait for me at the car,” Stu instructed. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I want a juice box.”

Stu looked at the floor. “I’ll get you a juice box.”

Billy smiled and left the room.

Stu remained in his crouched position until Ian heard Billy go out the front door. His dad slowly stood, knees cracking. He roughly cleared his throat and walked to the door, where he stopped and turned back to Ian.

“So, that was Billy?”

Ian nodded.

“I think it best you understand that Jackie will never go away.”

“Don’t say that.” Ian shook his head. “You lie. Mom will get better.”

“I don’t think she can. Billy isn’t another person inside your mom. Neither is Jackie. Theyareyour mom.”

CHAPTER 19

IAN

Aimee faces me from the opposite side of our room. Rain pelts the glass door to the patio behind me. A single lamp casts a golden glow in one corner. The rest of the room sits in a shroud of shadows.

I watch her warily, my stomach queasy. I’ll never forget the way she looked at me in the lobby. She’d laughed off Reese’s comment. She thought it was a joke. Office humor, however sick it might have been. She’d glanced between us, and Reese groaned an apology. She held up both hands in a deflecting manner. “I thought you would’ve known.”

Aimee looked at me. “Ian?”

I briefly closed my eyes, then forced myself to meet her gaze.

Her face drained of color. Her eyes told me everything. I’d lied to her. I’d betrayed her. I wasn’t the man she thought I was.

I was no better than James.

That’s when I acted. I got into Reese’s face. “You and me, we’re done with this assignment.”

“I’m not on contract with you,” she spat, appalled. As if I had the nerve to tell her what to do. At that moment, I was capable of more than ordering her around. I could strangle her.

“Then I’m off the assignment. Without my pictures, your article will be canned.”

“You can’t do that. You’re on contract, too. You break it and you’ll never have the chance to publish with them again.”

I shouldered my pack and grabbed Aimee’s roller case. “Come with me,” I said. “Please.” I was desperate.

I’m still desperate. I don’t want to lose her.

She stands just inside the hotel room’s door, cheeks void of color, mouth parted, and arms resting listlessly at her sides. She’s quiet, too quiet. I can handle her anger, when her Irish gets riled and she’s lobbing sock balls at me. I understand that Aimee. But this stunned, silent version? She confuses me. She scares me.

Will she leave me like she left James?

“Say something,” I beg.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Then let me explain.”

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