Page 102 of Crossing Lines

“That sounds good. It’ll take my mind off what happened for a little.”

After the shit day I’ve had, it’s a welcomed relief to be able to laugh and goof off with Kross. He makes me feel like everything will be okay. Like I should trust in the universe and not stress so much.

He slides his arm around my shoulders as we exit the bar after beating him twice at pool. I suspect he let me win, but I’m not complaining.

“How about a stroll before heading home?” he suggests.

“Yeah, it’s a nice night. Not too chilly.”

He kisses my neck, making me giggle.

As we turn the corner on the sidewalk, I see my mom exit a bistro, all hugged up with a man. But not just any man.

“Sup?” Kross asks when I stop moving. “Davi?”

I’m so perplexed by the image. “It’s my mom and…”

Their laughter dies when they see me.

“Davia,” both exclaim.

“Mr. Bartley?” I gasp. “You’re cheating with my mom?”

“Damn,” Kross murmurs beside me.

Passersby cut to them with critical looks, causing Jamir’s father to harrumph and touch his face as if trying to hide.

Mom sucks her teeth. “You’ve got some nerve judging when this man looks nothing like Jamir.”

“Jamir and I broke up,” I hit back.

“You did?” Mr. Bartley marvels. “He didn’t say.”

I stare at them wide-eyed. “Oh god. It’s Mr. Bartley’sbaby?”

Mom’s eyes enlarge. “Will you shut the—”

“Pregnant?” He snaps his head to her. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I would have tonight,” Mom sputters as she touches his arm.

Mr. Bartley pulls away. “Tanya, you know we can’t have a child. I’m…” He looks around and adds in a lower tone, “I’m married.”

“But I thought you were leaving your wife,” she rasps. Her naivety is rather pitiful.

“I never told you that,” he grits. “This was only supposed to be fun. You need to get rid of it.”

“Mike, come on…”

He swats her hand away and storms off.

“Honey, wait,” Mom pleads amid her sobbing. But Mr. Bartley hastens across the street to his Jaguar, leaving immediately.

“Dammit.” She pivots to me. “You always ruin things.”

I throw my hands up. “Of course. Blame me for your poor decisions. For God’s sake, Mom. You’re messing around with my ex’s father, who ismarried.”

“Why don’t you say it louder?” she fumes dramatically, drawing stares from passersby.

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