Page 86 of The Persistence of Thornes
She levels him with a stare. “You’re capable of it, yes. But are you actually going to do it, or will you throw it on the floor?”
His answer comes in the form of a mischievous little grin.
With a sigh, she says, “I’ll hold on to it for now, I think.”
He frowns but leans forward and takes a bite without argument.
With a soft smile at me, Salem slips a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “I think you have the wrong impression of me, Halle.”
“I—what—no,” I sputter, my heart plummeting.
Laughing, she squeezes my hand where it rests on the table. “I’m not accusing you of anything. It’s human nature to form preconceived notions, but I’d rather get to know each other so our impressions of one another can be informed by fact.”
I nod. I should probably respond, but my brain has suddenly emptied, unable to scramble twenty-six letters into any kind of sentence structure.
“Did Caleb tell you that I grew up in the house he lives in now?”
Another nod, and finally, a few words. “He told me.”
“I didn’t have the best childhood. He hasn’t given me any details—please don’t think he’s betrayed your trust—but he hinted that maybe you and I share similar experiences.”
My brows knit. “Similar experiences? Was your mom an addict too?”
Before she’s even responded, I wish I could take the question back, certain she’ll laugh. But, to my relief, she doesn’t. “No, but my dad was abusive. It…” She gives her son a soft smile, her eyes full of pain. “It was horrible, to say the least, and it played a large part in shaping me into who I am today.”
“Is he in prison?”
She shakes her head. “No, he died years ago. And maybe it’s wrong, but I’m relieved. I don’t think I would be nearly as okay as I am now if he were still alive. Even if he were behind bars.”
She takes a deep breath, stretching her fingers out in front of her.
“More,” Samson demands, smacking his hands on the highchair. “More, Mommy.”
With a tender sigh, she brushes his hair back from his face, only for it to flop right back into his eyes. She holds the sandwich out to him. Instead of taking a small bite, he leans his body forward and snatches the sandwich from her hand with his teeth like a piranha.
“Samson,” she scolds, but she can’t keep the laughter out of her voice. Quickly, her attention veers back to me. “Do you want kids?”
I frown, mulling over the question. It’s one I haven’t put a lot of thought into. “I don’t know. I practically raisedmyself and my brothers. For now, that’s enough, but I think maybe one day I’d like to have a family.”
Lips pressed together, she nods. “I always liked kids, but I used to think…” Eyes misting over, she considers her little boy. “I don’t know.” She clears her throat. “That maybe I wasn’t worthy of them. Of being a mother. That I was too broken. Too tainted. For a long time, I couldn’t put those sensations into words. Seda was a surprise, and honestly, it’s best it happened that way. I don’t know that I could have convinced myself that I deserved the love of a child.” She inhales deeply, surveying me. “I hope the two of us can be friends.”
For a moment, I’m overwhelmed by the depth of this conversation, unsure of how to respond. But I shake off the uncertainty—I’m overthinking this like I do most things—and force myself to speak. “I would like that. I… I’m not big on sharing, but I think… I think I’d like to tell you a little about my past, if that’s okay?”
Salem nods, giving me a soft, encouraging smile. “Tell me as much or as little as you want.”
So I do.
This may be the longest trip I’ve ever taken to the grocery store. Not because I’m buying an abundance of food, but because Caleb is home, and I’m a big, fat chicken.
He texted not long after I got here, but the message remains marked unread on my phone.
I’m home. Where are you? The store? It’s a bit late for a trip to the grocery store, don’t you think?
Now that I’ve given him the go-ahead to take control, I’m nervous. He’d never take advantage of me. That’s not the issue. But the anticipation might kill me.
I take one aisle after another with methodical precision, crossing off each item on my list and adding plenty more. By the time I check out and head to my car, the sun is beginning to set.
As I load the groceries into the trunk, I mentally consider every reason I might need to stop on my way home. I come up empty. It’s time to stop stalling. I’m being ridiculous.
