Page 128 of The Ruthless and the Strong

“Me?”

“Yeah.” His eyes turned mischievous, and his grin widened. I shot a questioning look over at Max, who didn’t look like he was feeling anything at the moment. And he hadn’t said a word to me since he came in.

I would have thought his mind was elsewhere, but that wasn’t it. There was something off about him.

“Are you okay?” I asked Max.

His eyes softened as he walked over to me. Holding out his hand to me. “Want to see the pictures Hunter and I drew for you?”

“For me?”

He nodded. I placed my hand in his and let him pull me off the couch. Hunter grabbed onto my other hand, and I would have liked to say he was full of restless energy today, but this was how it was most of the time. He’d tire himself out by noontime, and hopefully, we would all get to rest a little after.

They led me to the kitchen, and I found a stack of paper on the kitchen island. Max lifted Hunter up in his arms and moved beside me as I took in the drawing. The first one was obviously done by Hunter. It was a picture of our house in California. I recognized it by the yellow tulips Hunter drew, the ones that I had planted for him when he was three.

“Why, isn’t this precious?” I said.

Hunter chest puffed put in pride, and I ruffled his hair.

“The next one, Mommy. The next one.”

“Okay, little one. But you are sounding way too excited for this. What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously.

He looked down. “Nothing,” he muttered.

I laughed. Hunter was a terrible liar. Max leaned toward me and kissed the side of my head. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

I didn’t say it to him very often, only because I was terrible at expressing myself, but Max didn’t seem to mind, and he enjoyed it when I did say it.

“Next one, sweetheart,” Max said, indicating the pictures again.

The second picture was done by Max, though not very well. It was a stick figure of a guy in front of a house, and he was crying.

I turned to him.

“Me,” he answered, “without you or Hunter in my life.”

I giggled. “That’s so cheesy.”

He smiled. “Next one.”

Another picture drawn by him. This time, the stick figure guy was standing next to a stick figure girl with red hair, and a smaller stick figure guy who I assumed was Hunter.

All three were smiling in this picture, and they were standing in front of a house, which I was coming to realize was Max’s house.

The next one was done by Hunter. It had a row of people. Hunter reached over and pointed at each one, naming them off. “Look, Mommy, there’s Max, and you, and me, and Captain Marvel—” I laughed at the small action-figure stick figure Hunter was holding in his stick arms. “Here’s Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle Henry, and Emma, and Uncle Mason, Auntie Livia.”

Even our group of friends was there: Gage, Logan, Hayden, and Kiera. Though they were smaller, as if they were standing farther away. Another stick figure with blond hair stood in the corner.

“Who’s this, sweetheart?” I asked.

“That’s Daddy, Mommy. He lives in California. That’s why he’s so far away. Do you love it?”

I nodded, not knowing why my eyes were getting a little misty. “Yeah, baby. I love it so much.”

There was one more picture left. I turned to it, but realized quickly enough it wasn’t a picture but words.

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