Page 95 of The Moment Promised

No matter how much the truth might pain me, I must know. I’m the only one who has a chance to fix this huge mess that is my life, that is my mother’s life.

“Knock-knock.” Finn’s knuckles tap on the door frame of his bathroom.

I take in his attire. Loose army green joggers hang low on his hips. A black cotton T-shirt grips his biceps and shoulders. An expression of pure adoration and love glimmers in his eyes.

Ever since we told each other how we feel, we can’t keep the touching and flirting away, despite the circumstances of my life. He’s a trooper for sticking around.There are good guys out therehe told me not too long ago.

You are a good guy, Finn Walker.

“Hey.” I smile.

“Hey.” He lifts me in one swift motion, resting my butt on the edge of the sink. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?” he whispers against my lips, closing the space before I get the chance to answer.

I gently push his chest, separating from his hungry kiss. “I’m going to talk to my mom.”

He doesn’t back away. His eyes shift from hungry to searching. He assesses me, trying to figure out my state of mind. I put on my best poker face, maybe I can appear confident without actually feeling it.

“You’ll do great,” he says with ease.

I guess my poker face is strong after all. “I’m scared.”

He brings my hand away from his back, placing gentle kisses along each knuckle. “Do you want me to be there?” he offers, but I immediately shake my head.

“No.” I have to do this by myself. I can be brave. I have to be.

“I’ll be close by, the second you want me I’m yours,” he promises, kissing my lips.

I savor the taste of him. Our chests move in the same heavy pattern. I hop off the sink and make my way past him.

Downstairs is empty. Burt and Jill are at work. The search for my mom ends quickly as I look out the sliding glass doors. She lays on a lounge chair in the backyard, with a mug in hand.

When I step outside, the hot patio burns my bare feet. I make my way into her view, and she jumps a little, as if my presence was unexpected. Startling.

“I’ll just finish my coffee inside—” She starts to sit up, but I place a gentle hand to her shoulder, gesturing for her to stay.

“I’m sorry, Mom. The things I said were horrible.” I stiffen when she grabs my hand, holding it.

“I’m not upset with you,” she says so maternally I almost lose balance. “I know what you said was how you felt, and all I saw was passion behind your words. You were angry and hurt, rightfully so. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.” She sets her coffee on the ground and sits up.

I grab a patio chair that’s only a few feet away and sit across her.

“I haven’t been the best mother to you, Adeline. But I don’t want you to hate me.” She chokes over the last words. Her fair skin blotches with red.

“I could never hate you.” It comes out as a whisper.

“Your dad—” She shakes her head. “Jason. He started sending me letters four months ago.”

Something inside me sinks.

I should’ve known, but I had no idea he’d been lurking in the shadows for that long.

“The first letter had a thousand dollars in it.” She looks around, uneasy. “I kept the money and threw away the handwritten note as soon as I saw who the sender was.”

A thousand dollars? Jason never had that kind of money to be giving out.

“A few days later, another envelope from him came in the mail. I decided I would skim the letter, maybe he was dying or something.” She clears her throat. “He was sorry, Adeline. He apologized to me. For hurting me. I finally read the words I’ve spent years waiting for.”

I can’t look at her anymore. In this vulnerable state, she seems so fragile. I’m afraid the slightest breeze will crumble her into nothing.

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