Page 271 of Mangled Memory
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Your absence did.” I set the cup down on her desk before settling on the sofa with my own.
She stares at me for a long moment, making no attempt to hide her appreciation of my body. Her eyes drift shut as she sips her coffee, and she makes a little hum of contentment beforereturning her gaze to me. “Thank you for my coffee. I didn’t mean to wake you. What time did you come to bed?”
“A little after one. What snagged your attention on that shot?” I use my mug to gesture to her screen.
She looks at the screen before turning it to face me. “His eye. It’s the same amber as the moose’s. I swear they’re trying to tell me something. I know that sounds hokey, but there’s something in the eyes.”
“The eye of the storm.” I take another pull of coffee as she freezes.
“That’s it. That’s the name. With the slate gray background and the snowstorm fuzzing out the edges, it’s perfect.”
“Fuzzing out? Is that a photography term I’ve never heard?”
Her smile is breathtaking.
“Come here, Princess.”
She saves her work and slides out of her chair, nabbing her coffee, before leaning deeply into my side, feet curled in below her.
My exhale is the settling of my soul. All is right in the world when she’s where she belongs.
Ayla
“I need to go see Mom today. Or at least attempt it.” I’ve been burrowed into him for forty-five minutes or so, simply enjoying the closeness and the faint pine scent of his soap. My coffee is gone and his is too, yet neither of us has moved.
His breath leaves him as a sigh.
Using a hand on his abs to press myself up, I look him in the eyes. “What?”
“Will you invite her here? Or meet somewhere more…” He pauses as if deciding on the correct word choice. “Neutral?”
“I can, but if she doesn’t agree…” I leave the sentence dangling.
“Love, your cheek is still bruised, and you have fingerprints on your arm. You can see, and I mean physically, not metaphorically, why I wouldn’t want you to be near him, right?”
Him. My father.Get the fuck out and don’t come back.I never repeated what he said to Cian or Liam. I never told Christian, either.The black and blue marks spoke to them of his brutality, while his words screamed betrayal to my soul.
“You’re not wrong,” I hedge. “I’ll see where she’s comfortable aside from there. But he’s still my dad. Birthdays… Holidays… He’ll be around.” What I don’t say is that time to cool off can’t be bad.
“I need to go into the office today. At the risk of being overbearing and overprotective—” His eyes trail to my bruised cheek. “Would you please keep me posted on you today? I know it’s not your thing, but me not being able to help you isn’t mine. So I’m asking for a little help.”
I study his face before making my decision and leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Sure, Honey.”
He jolts a little in surprise. His answering smile, though… that’s worth everything I gave to put it there.
“So,” I ask mom across the table three hours later. “How bad was the fallout?” We’re at the same restaurant we met at all those months ago in Cherry Creek North.
Our conversation was tentative to start and very surface level. We started with the weather. Not that spring weather isn’t always a topic of conversation in Colorado, but it’s my mom, and three days ago wasthatday.
Purple stains rest beneath her eyes. It could be bruising from my elbow to her nose when I wrenched free from Dad. It couldbe exhaustion. I stare at the shadows until she breaks my gaze, looking over the lunch crowd.
“I feel terrible, sweetie. I hate that we left on those terms.”
That wasn’t what I was askingat all.
“Mom, we’re fine. I promise. I couldn’t not go, not after his insistence, but I hated leaving you to his anger. Well, I hated it after I woke up, after the EMTs checked me out, and after the Uber came since I couldn’t drive due to another blow to the head, you know…”
