Page 1 of Knight Life In Vegas

Itripped over a fire truck in the hall and caught myself on the wall, cursing quietly as I steadied myself. My eldest son had left his towel on the floor, a trail of water leading from the bathroom to the sodden pile. I collected everything scattered in my path with a sigh. This was pretty much a daily occurrence in our apartment.

We had to be economical now that I was divorced. A tidy two-bedroom in Las Vegas where my boys shared a bunk bed let our money stretch a lot further than the expensive apartment we’d had in Manhattan.

“Ollie, what did I tell you about leaving your toys in the hall?”

“Not to do it,” he shouted from the living room.

I pursed my lips. “And did you listen?”

“Nope!” He ran past me, stealing the fire truck out of my hands and barreling into his bedroom, where I heard Sammy yell.

“Ollie, get off!”

I changed direction to intervene, seeing my six-year-old trying to drive the fire truck on his eight-year-old brother. “Honey, your brother isn’t a road. Remember the conversations we had about personal space?”

“But thereisno space, Mommy.” Ollie gestured to the small square of room on their floor that was full of their toys.

I tried not to feel too much guilt about it. We only had the money my parents had left me to survive on right now. My ex-husband had apparently embezzled so much of his personal wealth that there was basically nothing left for the boys and me after he was convicted and his assets seized.

“You’ll have tons of space to play tonight at Auntie’s. Why don’t you both grab a snack from the fridge and I’ll get your bags packed?”

Sammy crawled out from under his brother and dashed to the kitchen, Ollie following but making siren noises and pushing his truck down the hall. I made quick work of the task, knowing the juice boxes and crackers wouldn’t last them long.

I had always heard people weren’t supposed to make drastic decisions after big life changes like death or divorce, but I hadn’t listened. Moving my children from New York to Las Vegas wasimpulsive, but being in my home city made me sick after my entire life turned out to be a lie.

I’d been good since then: attending therapy for the last year, picking up new hobbies, helping my two boys adjust to life without their father. But I was going to lose it sooner or later. It was all bubbling beneath the surface: fury, sorrow, frustration.

If I didn’t let it out, I was going to burst.

I didn’t even have the comfort of a proper nest to climb into. My ex hadn’t allowed me much of one during our marriage, and I certainly couldn’t afford to outfit one for myself now. It wasn’t fair. Omegas needed nests. Surviving as long as I had without one was purely a necessity, but I still craved the comfort of it.

Charlotte:

Could I bring the boys over a bit early? They’re getting cabin fever.

Ava:

ABSOLUTELY

We got some new pool floats so they can tire themselves out before bed

Charlotte:

You’re a godsend!

“Okay, kiddos, I’ve got your bags ready to go. Let’s hustle.”

They raced me all the way down to the ground level, blessedly pausing at the doors instead of running out into the parking lot without me. I got them bundled into the back in their booster seats and smiled at both of them.

“Are you two excited for your sleepover with Auntie?”

“Yeah!” shrieked Ollie at full volume.

I flinched but disguised it by getting myself into the front seat.

Sammy nodded but wasn’t nearly so exuberant as his brother.

“And you’re going to be on your best behavior?” I asked.

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