Page 69 of Make Me Trust Again
“Is he ready?” John mutters over my shoulder, clearly annoyed. “Because we’ve gotta go. I don’t have the whole day.”
Fucking John.
I ignore him, putting all of my attention on Kyle and making sure he’s comfortable. Or as much as he can be.
He’s here, isn’t he?
Kyle shrugs.
He’s trying, buddy. We have to try, too.
I can only hope that’s the case, and I’m not lying to my son. Again.
But we’re not going back there?
There. Not home.
“Rose.” I don’t miss the warning tone in John’s voice, but to hell with him. If Kyle needs reassurance, I’ll sure as hell give it to him. He’s just a boy.
I glare at him. “Just wait a minute.”
“You’re babying him too much,” John mutters.
“And you’re being an ass, but I guess that’s nothing new.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see Kyle’s throat bob, and I curse at myself for letting him get to me and, by extension, upsetting Kyle.
He’s angry. I don’t like him when he’s angry.
He’s not angry. He’s just in a hurry. And no, buddy. We’re not going back. You’ll stay with your dad for the weekend, and then you’re coming home to me.
When I got home from the settlement the other day, I sat Kyle down after dinner and tried to explain to him what’s been going on, although I’m not surprised that he’s still uncertain. The divorce and the custody agreements are a lot for a six-year-old to handle.
Good. I like it here.
I like it here, too. And I’ll be waiting for you when you come back home on Sunday. But if you need anything, you can video call or text me, and I’ll be there.
Okay.
Kyle wraps his arms around my neck, so I take a moment to squeeze him tightly to me, closing my eyes to push back the tears.
Why is this so freaking hard?
I wait for Kyle to pull back first, and quickly blink my eyes before pushing to my feet and turning to face my ex.
“He has all of his stuff in the backpack, but if you need anything, just call.”
John scoffs. “So you can take the weekend visitations from me as well? I think not. Besides, if you haven’t left, none of this would be happening.”
My fingers curl into a fist by my side, my nails digging into my palm. I have to keep calm in front of Kyle. “This isn’t about us, John. He’s just a boy, and he’s scared. Just?—”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Rose. This is about us. And the choicesyoumade led us here. Now it’s time you get a taste of what you wished for.” John glances at Kyle. “Get in the car.”
Kyle’s blue eyes meet mine, so I force myself to keep my mask in place to reassure him and smile wider.I love you.
Love you more.
John’s lips twitch in annoyance. I know he hates it when we use sign language because he doesn’t know what we’re talking about, but then again, he’s the one always complaining about how wrong Kyle sounds when he speaks, so it’s tough luck for him.
