Page 31 of The Manny

Her little voice was so matter-of-fact; it broke my heart. With a groan, I knelt down beside the bed. We were at eye level with each other now, and I met her wary gaze. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you’re not welcome in my home. I’ve never been around kids much. I’m not good with kids.”

“Oh.”

I gestured toward Thomas. “That’s why I hired Thomas. He’s great with children. Hopefully he can make up for my shortcomings.”

“But Uncle Jack will try harder too,” Thomas said softly. “Right?”

“Uh, right.”

“Okay,” she said.

I sighed. “Do you feel any better, Mia?”

She nodded.

“Good. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m like a bull in a china shop sometimes,” I grumbled. “But you don’t know me, so you don’t know not to take me seriously.”

“I know some stuff about you,” she said quietly.

“Do you?” I frowned.

Mia watched me. “Mommy talked about you sometimes.”

That surprised me. I’d often felt as if Jules hadn’t even remembered she’d had a younger brother. “Really?”

She nodded. “She said she felt sad when she thought of you.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Why was she sad?”

“Because she left you behind,” she whispered.

It was difficult to keep my expression blank as emotions swamped me. Had Jules regretted leaving me behind? She’d never said anything along those lines, but Mia wouldn’t lie about that. There would be no reason to. “I… I didn’t know that.”

“She said if she’d stayed with you, maybe you wouldn’t have goed to jail.”

I stiffened, and heat flooded my face as Thomas glanced at me sharply. I couldn’t believe she’d brought that up.Fuck. Humiliation rippled through me as I pretended I hadn’t heard her. I tried never to think about that horrible time in my life. I’d fucked up as a teen, and done some jail time, but I never,evertalked about it. Embarrassed that Mia had said anything about my past, I avoided Thomas’s gaze. Of all the people Mia had to slip in front of, it had to behim?

My throat was tight as I said, “That wasn’t your mom’s fault. I was a dumb kid.” I swallowed hard, and added, “That’s not a time in my life I’m going to talk about.”

“Oh.”

I could feel Thomas’ curiosity radiating, but I continued to avoid his gaze. He could draw his own conclusions. I wasn’t about to go into detail with him. My past was none of his business. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Mia. I never meant to upset you. I’ll watch what I say more carefully.”

“Okay.”

I stood. “Have a good night’s sleep.” I left the room, aware of Thomas’s gaze burning into my back. Knowing him, he’d try and pump me for details. He was the nosiest little bastard I’d ever met.

Feeling frustrated, I went into my room and closed the door. Mia’s innocent words had brought up some dark feelings and thoughts. I really had no desire to embrace those emotions. I functioned best when I shoved all sentimentality and regret away. I’d been a different person back then. I’d been a rage-filled kid. I’d also been stupidly trusting of my friends. But I knew better now. I wasn’t going to think about that stuff. There was no point. What was done, was done. If Thomas brought it up, I’d shut him down immediately.

I hadn’t had dinner, so hunger gnawed at me. But what I really wanted was a hot shower. Hoping that might calm me down, I stripped and turned on the water. Stepping under the warm stream, I sighed, trying to release all the strain of the day. The excruciating memory of Mia’s soft voice disclosing my dirty secret circled in my brain. The way Thomas had glanced over, obviously shocked at what she’d said was imprinted on my mind.

Don’t think about it. It’s fine. Just don’t think about it.

I soaped my body, washing away the oil and dirt clinging to my skin. Once my muscles felt warm and loose, I shut off the water and toweled myself dry. I dressed in boxers and a T-shirt, and when my stomach growled, decided I needed to eat something. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t get something in my belly.

I opened my bedroom door and listened. There were no lights on, and it seemed Thomas had gone to bed while I’d showered. Relieved I didn’t have to face him, I slipped from my room and headed to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and grabbed the leftovers from tonight’s dinner. Lifting the lid, I inhaled the scent of beef stroganoff.

“Nice,” I said softly, pulling a small pot from the cupboard. I scooped a generous helping into the pan and turned on the burner.

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