Page 22 of Shattered Dreams
"So, Kieron," I ask casually, "how long has he been here?"
"He showed up today," Scott replies, rubbing the back of his neck. "Poppy lost her mind. Shannon got hold of him, and he dropped everything. He flew in from London the same day."
I freeze, staring at Scott with wide eyes. "He flew from London?" My voice catches as I turn to Kieron.
Kieron looks embarrassed, glancing down at his shoes. "It's not a big deal."
But it is. It's everything.
I cross the room again, this time more slowly, deliberately, my hands shaking slightly as I reach for him. "Thank you," I whisper, the words entirely inadequate for what I'm feeling.
He wraps me in another hug, this one longer, tighter. "You'd do the same," he responds simply.
When I pull back, wiping my eyes, I can see everyone watching us with a mixture of sympathy and something else I can't quite name.
"Anyway, it’s ice cream time," I remark, smiling faintly as I wave goodbye. I slip outside into the sun.
I climb into Kieron’s truck beside Poppy, who's already listing her demands.
"Mint. With chocolate chips. Obviously."
Kieron salutes her. "Such power, for someone so tiny."
The ride to town is filled with music and ridiculous singing. I let the wind whip through my hair and allow myself, for the first time in days, to breathe.
When we reach the local ice cream shop, Poppy pulls us out of the car like she's on a mission. Minutes later, she's happily stabbing her spoon into a sundae the size of her head, YouTube playing on my phone.
I've got caramel drizzle. Kieron goes for classic vanilla.
He leans back in his chair, licking a bit of ice cream off his knuckle. "So. How are you, really?"
I glance at Poppy, who's thoroughly distracted. "How do you think? I'm not even thirty and apparently already too old to keep my husband interested."
Kieron's brow furrows. "You know this isn't about you, right? This is him. His ego. His choices."
"Yeah, I know," I mutter, staring at the melting ice cream in my cup. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."
He hesitates. "Did you read the stories?"
I shake my head. "I saw some headlines…"
His expression turns grim. "She did an interview. One of the trashier sites ran it like it was gospel."
My stomach turns, but I keep my expression even. "So it's as bad as I imagined."
He nods once. "Worse."
I look out the window, pressing my lips together.
"I'll say this once, Ava," he comments softly. "He doesn't deserve you. Or her. Not even close. You’re being really brave.”
"I don'tfeelbrave." I look over at Poppy, happily oblivious. "I just keep thinking about how I grew up without a dad. And then without my mom. How I promised myself I'd never let Poppy experience that kind of loss."
I blink quickly, swallowing hard. He doesn't need to say anything else.
He's right.
And that's what makes this so hard. Because Roman isn't gone—he's just different now. The man I married, the one I trusted with everything, has transformed into someone I barely recognize. But he'll always be in our lives—He will always be Poppy's dad.
