Page 21 of Shattered Dreams
Oh my god, Kieron is here.
I pull back just enough to look at him, aware I'm a complete mess—red-faced, tears everywhere, probably getting snot on his shirt.
"How are you holding up?" he asks quietly.
I just shrug because words feel like too much.
He sighs. "That bad, eh?"
I wipe my face, trying to pull myself together. Everyone's watching us—I can feel their eyes. I take a shaky breath, forcing my shoulders back, my chin up. Just like my aunt taught me.
"I'm fine," I say, the lie so practiced it almost sounds true. "Really."
Kieron's eyes search mine, but he doesn't call me out on my obvious lie. Instead, he grins at Poppy who's staring at us wide-eyed.
"Well, I promised this little monster we'd get ice cream, so..." He turns toward the sink, starting to wash his hands.
I follow, helping Poppy wash hers beside him, grateful for the mundane task to ground me.
"I hope this washes out," I grumble, nudging her playfully, desperate for normal conversation.
Poppy's eyes go wide with glee. "Mommy will kick your ass, Uncle Kieron!"
Laughter ripples through the room, and I try not to scold her too harshly. Of course, she said it. She has Roman’s fire—reckless, unfiltered, impossible not to love.
Even when it breaks your heart.
Almost like he reads my mind, Kieron nudges me.
"I brought my manuscript for you," he states with mock-seriousness. "Special treat."
"Really?" I gasp, drying Poppy's hands.
She scampers off to find Scott, leaving us alone for a beat.
Kieron glances around, then looks at me with sharp sincerity. "I'm so fucking sorry, Ava. What a dick he is."
The tears come quickly, blurring my vision as he pulls me into his arms. I breathe him in—fresh soap and something simply Kieron—and let myself rest against his chest. It feels safe here, uncomplicated.
Of course, he doesn't push. He never has. Kieron's always known when to talk—and when to just let me breathe.
"Let's get the princess her ice cream, and then we can talk, yeah?"
I nod, and we part just as Amanda appears, effortlessly radiant in jeans and bare feet. She sweeps me into a hug, the scent of her perfume hitting me like home.
"I'm so sorry about Roman," she murmurs against my ear. "Scott was ready to kill him last week."
I wince as she squeezes my hands, her eyes warm and worried.
"He doesn't deserve you," she adds firmly.
"Thanks," I reply quietly. "And thank you for taking care of Poppy..."
"Stop! We love her. She loves it here—down by the lake, chasing ducks and getting muddy. She's thriving."
Scott strolls in behind her, offering a crooked grin as he wraps an arm around Amanda.
I can tell he's holding back for my sake.
