Page 48 of The Locksmith's Promise

Taking a breath, I continued on as normal.

After Corwin packed away his homework, we played a board game. Then I set up his equipment and gave him his first impromptu lesson before Maggie sent him to shower before bed.

And I settled on the couch and waited.

This was the best part of the night, the part I looked forward to the most.

Those few precious minutes when it was just Maggie and me. A stolen pocket of time between Corwin going to bed and the flaring of her agitation at my proximity.

She turned to me. “Bax, we need to talk.”

Alerted by her serious tone, I jerked to attention. “What’s wrong?”

Standing a few feet away, she lifted her hands up then let them fall. “You can’t buy him.”

My eyebrows flew up and I gaped. “Buy him?”

“Yeah,” she snapped. “Buy him.”

“I’m not trying to buy him, Maggie. I just wanted to—”

“I know what you wanted to do.”

The beginnings of my anger sparked to life. “Oh, you know, do you?”

She frowned, her brows creating a deep V. “I know you spent thousands and thousands of dollars today.”

“Two thousand,” I corrected. “And that included my bedframe, mattress, and the cheapest dinette money can buy.”

Before she could counter, I continued, “I’ve missed ten birthdays, ten Christmases, Easters, summer holidays, new school supplies, fucking diapers…” I petered off. “I’ve missed so much, and I would have been here, Maggie. I would have been here for all of it.”

She closed her eyes, her face pained. “I know, but it’s not necessary to make up for everything you missed by buying the world for him in one day.”

Shaking my head, I stood and set my hands on my hips. Tipping my chin down to meet her gaze, I appealed, “I understand your anxieties around Corwin being away from you, and I’ll do my best to support you and make concessions. I’m asking you to do the same for me. Whether or not you decide to give me a chance, give us a chance, I need you to make some concessions for me too, Mags.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the envelope of cash I’d withdrawn from the bank. “This is for you.”

She drew back. “What is it?”

“Money I should have been paying all along. Money that should have made your road easier, even if you didn’t want me on it with you.”

She stared up at me with wide eyes. “I don’t want your money.”

That spark turned to a flame. “You don’t want my money, or you don’t want my interference in this neat little bubble you’ve built around you and the son I never knew I had?”

Her face paled. “That’s not fair, Bax.”

“None of it’s fair, Maggie. Not to you, not to me, and certainly not to him,” I rumbled. “I’ve got a lot to make up for. This?” I held up the envelope and set it down gently on the coffee table though everything in me wanted to drive my fist straight through it. “This is the fucking least of it.”

She opened her mouth to protest but I squeezed my eyes shut and held up my palm to stay her.

There was nothing good that could come from continuing this conversation.

Not with the rage building inside me.

Because I would have been there every step of the way.

And I fucking missed all of it.

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