Page 26 of The Locksmith's Promise

Despite Maggie’s discomfort with me and the subject matter, it didn’t take away from the ease with which she and Corwin visually checked in with one another. It spoke of a closeness I craved with both of them.

Maggie’s maternal side fascinated me. Nurturing, attentive, and responsive.

It had always fascinated me. That tenderness she slathered over me once upon a time.

And somehow, I’d taken it and used it to destroy her.

The fuzzy edges of a memory teased the edges of my mind, but I shied away from it with a shudder.

There were things I never wanted to remember, and cheating on Maggie was at the top of that long list.

Regret reared her ugly head, but I pushed her back down into the deepest recesses of my heart.

Buried, she wouldn’t interfere with my determination to get Maggie back. Thinking too much about the past would only underline how unworthy I was for this present gift.

Unworthy, yes, but selfish enough to take it.

And man enough to ensure she’d never regret it.

Maggie pulled another album off the shelf and set it on the side table by the front door before shuffling back to her chair.

My resolve renewed, I turned back to Corwin.

I’d never heard that name before. Where did she come up with it? How did she choose? Corwin wasn’t the name we agreed on when we mapped out our plans.

Oh, God. She’d gone through the entire pregnancy by herself.

The birth.

Had anyone been there with her?

I stared into space, a butterfly flapping violently in my chest.

Those first few sleepless months. I’d heard the horror stories of endless ear infections, vaccinations, and fevers.

I blinked away the dark thoughts. Surely her parents were with her?

Dragging my mind from a past I knew nothing about, I met my son’s curious gaze.

My son.

He studied me much the same way I studied him.

There was so much I didn’t know. I cleared my throat. “Do you play sports?”

He wagged his head back and forth. “I like music more. And hiking. Mom and I go hiking sometimes.”

He was a mini-me.

How did Maggie stand it? All these years loving a child with the face, interests, and quirks of the man who betrayed her.

I shook the memory of Jenny passed out on my bed from my head.

There was something wrong with the memory, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I couldn’t stand to look at it for any amount of time without feeling sick to my stomach.

Without the visceral need to run.

I straightened and stretched out the kinks in my spine from too many hours playing guitar the night before and turned my full attention back to my beautiful son.

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