Page 83 of Make Me Trust Again
And he’s home. That’s the only thing that matters.
“You hungry? I made cookies.”
Kyle’s eyes light up.Chocolate chip?
“Your favorite.”I smooth his hair back in place. It has grown longer in recent weeks, and a haircut is due in our near future.
Yes. Can I have it?
“You know it. Go on inside, I’ll come in a few. Say bye to your father.”
Kyle glances over his shoulder, like he just now realized John is still here.
“Bye, Dad.” His words are clipped, and I can see by the tight line between his brows how hard he’s trying to articulate every single word he says correctly. Not that John cares because his mouth presses in a hard, disapproving line regardless.
“Kyle.” He nods. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Kyle’s fingers curl around the straps of his backpack, his knuckles white from how hard he’s squeezing them.
Asshole.
I gently place my hand on his shoulder, which snaps him out of his head, so he turns around and goes inside.
I suck in a long breath and turn around to face John.
“Do you always have to be like this?”
“I’m just teaching him some manners.”
Irritation spikes inside me, making me grind my teeth. “He has manners. You’re just being an ass to him. And you’re late.”
John moves closer. He looks disheveled. His hair is sticking in all directions, his eyes are bloodshot, and he didn’t bother shaving, so dark stubble covers his jaw. Considering he spent the night out partying, I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Weekends are mine, Rose,” he hisses into my face. “Be glad I didn’t drop him off at midnight. Next time, I just might.”
The corner of his mouth curls in a smirk as he lets his eyes drop, taking in my body. The need to wrap my arms around myself and hide from his view is overwhelming, but I force myself to stay still under his perusal.”
“I’ll see you soon.” He takes a step back as his eyes meet mine. “Wife.”
“Ex-wife.”
“Not yet, babe. Not yet.”
“The papers will be here soon; might as well start practicing.”
The wicked glint in his irises makes the hair at my nape stand at attention.
“The papers might be here soon, but they’re only validafterI sign them.”
My fingers curl into a fist by my side, and he doesn’t miss it. That smirk only grows bigger. “Don’t forget about that.”
With that, he slides back into his car and finally gets the hell out of here.
“Fucking John.”
His threat hangs in the air, like a noose wrapping around my neck, making it hard to breathe. Because whether I want to admit it or not, he is right. The papers aren’t signed, and until that happens, he has the upper hand.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
