Page 17 of His Wild Storm
Therapy has helped me see that I was never in a real relationship with him. It was all about control. It’s something I already knew, but hearing someone else say it is different. I don’t even know if I can explain why.
It is like being seen when you’ve been invisible for so long. It’s like being understood when you were sure no one could hear you or knew the language you’ve been speaking.
Still, knowing the relationship I had withhimwasn’t healthy or normal doesn’t mean I’m ready to move on and try again. Maybe one day, but I need to make sure Wilde is happy, healthy, and safe first. I need the same things for myself, but he will always be my priority.
I put him in enough danger staying for as long as I did. I won’t do it again. No fucking way.
“I put the bowl on Knox’s table,” Wilde chirps as he runs back into the room.
“Thank you.” Laura smiles down at him as she hands him a bowl with some cereal and milk. “Here ya go.”
“Thank you, Miss Laura,” he calls out over his shoulder.
The way he makes his way to the table is adorable. His steps are careful as he keeps his eyes locked on the milk, even though the bowl is far from full. He is biting his lower lip as his eyebrows pull together in a picture of intense concentration.
When he makes it to the table without spilling and gets himself situated, the smile he flashes me is crooked and triumphant as hell. I can’t help but wink at him and give him a thumbs up.
I know there will be a time when my thumbs up aren’t cool anymore. Hopefully, I’ll get more time to hug him and give him kisses. Maybe he’ll keep calling me ‘mommy’ for a long time and I won’t just become ‘mom’ before I’m ready for the change. I can only hope and send wishes out into the universe, but I also know he’ll grow up and grow out of things.
It’s just a matter of time.
After grabbing a cup of coffee and some toast, I sit down next to my son and take advantage of him still being little by leaning over and kissing the top of his head. Instead of telling me how uncool I’m being, he grins up at me and shovels another bite of cereal in his mouth.
“Don’t go too fast,” I warn him. “Art class won’t start for a little while.”
Wilde pouts for a moment before the front door opens and closes. Wilde’s eyes go wide, but it’s not from fear. I’m glad he’snot afraid because a year ago his reaction would have been vastly different.
My son’s reaction puts me at ease, but only a little bit. Sure, I’m glad he’s okay, but I’m not sure I am.
Avery is the first to walk into the large kitchen and dining room area. Knox follows her with Wendy practically glued to his side. The smile on his face is polite when he looks at her. I don’t particularly like the feeling of jealousy that wells up from the depth of my soul at seeing Wendy looking at him with interest, even if he’s not returning it.
Wendy is beautiful and she helps run Safe Home instead of being a broken woman who needs the services a place like this provides. She’s probably a better bet for anyone, let alone a man like Knox who seems to have his life together.
That doesn’t mean I have to like it.
I don’t.
Knox’s attention turns to me and his mossy green eyes light up when he sees me. His smile changes and turns into something special. It has my belly tightening in a way that is not, in any way, appropriate.
“Knox,” Wilde shouts and waves.
The smile the large man, a man I would think my son would be intimidated by, has on his face is full of sunshine and a hint of genuine affection as he gives Wilde his attention. Even though I recognize that it would be a normal reaction for me to want to grab Wilde and run, it’s the last thing I want to do.
“Good morning, Wilde,” Knox greets. His eyes slide over to me, and his grin turns almost sinful. “We didn’t get the chance to meet last week,” he rumbles. “I’m Knox. I work at the sametattoo shop where Bridger, Avery’s man works.” Wilde is looking between me and Knox with his eyebrows pulled together. When Knox notices, he winks at my son and then focuses back on me. “You have one talented kid on your hands.”
Pride fills me and I can’t help but chirp, “Oh, I know!”
Knox chuckles, the sound reverberating through me and settling somewhere deep in my belly, as our eyes lock. It curls there and anchors me to the moment.
“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Wilde’s mama,” Knox gently prods.
“I’m Haven,” the words slip past my lips without even thinking about it.
“Haven,” he whispers softly, more like he’s testing my name out on his tongue. A shiver runs down my spine with the way he says my name.
I love it, but I shouldn’t.
Wilde’s curious voice cuts through the weighted silence between us and I’m able to break eye contact. “What’s your favorite fruit? Which one would you choose for the bowl today?”
