Page 108 of We Are Yours
To only her.
I carried her up the stairs, never once breaking our connection, our mouths starving for one another. We kissed until we passed out on my bed, and I woke up to her sleeping in my arms. This was the first time we’d fallen asleep in my bed, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. I’d wake up with her in my arms every morning if it were up to me.
The sun was rising, streaming through the curtain. I closed my eyes for a second, hugging her closer to my chest. I scratched her head, playing with her hair between my fingers. The scent of her coconut shampoo lingered in the air, and before I knew it, I had lulled myself back to sleep.
The second time I woke up, it was the smell of coffee and bacon in the air that made my eyes flutter open, and I found myself alone.
“Isla,” I called out, reaching for her.
She wasn’t there. Kicking off the sheets, I stretched, walking toward the bathroom to brush my teeth. My stomach rumbled, and I decided to take a shower after I ate some of Isla’s breakfast. We didn’t finish her dinner last night, and I didn’t want her food to get cold.
It was Saturday morning, or maybe it was Sunday. I’d lost track of the days. Rounding the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks.
For a second, I thought I was seeing a ghost.
Same posture.
Same smile.
Same eyes.
Our mother.
I was once again slapped in the face by another family member. Another lesson was learned, and I understood right then and there that ten minutes had always been our death sentence.
It was when she celebrated, “We’re all family now!”
That I roared…
* * *
“The fuck we are!”
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Isla
When I found who I assumed to be their mother in the kitchen cooking breakfast, I almost lost my footing. I’d seen her in pictures, but she was prettier in person. The boys both had her smile, which was exactly what she showed me.
“Well,” she greeted. “Isn’t this the best surprise ever! You must be Isla.”
I was blown away that she knew my name.
“Take a seat,” she ordered, smiling widely. “Breakfast is just about ready.” She walked back over to the stove, preparing me a plate as if she’d been doing it since I started living there.
“Mrs. Knightly?—”
“Honey, you can call me Melody.”
Melody?
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
So she is the one who taught them how to play their instruments? Is her name confirmation for that?
After everything Julius shared with me last night, I tried not to let it get the best of me and go off on her. I honestly didn’t know what to do in this situation, never bearing in mind I’d find myself in it. At least not like this.
