Page 62 of Forgotten Deeds

We follow him down the hall and up the stairs. “Your office,” Darius tells me, flipping on the light to the first room we reach.

I take in the cozy space with my desk and bookcase—the Hades and Persephone statues prominently displayed on the top shelf. There’s also cushioned window seat—the perfect place to snuggle under a blanket with a cup of coffee and a good book. “I love this so much,” I swoon.

“Good,” he says, flipping off the light and continuing down the hall. “And Iris, this is your room.”

We enter a bedroom with all of Iris’ things, plus a cute little reading nook with a bean bag and bookcase. Behind it painted on the wall is a beautiful pastel rainbow mural. Iris squeals in delight, and Lucky hops down as my daughter runs over to explore her new room.

“Enough. You’re getting lucky later,” I whisper to Darius, and he laughs.

We manage to talk Iris into checking out the rest of the house, and after a mouthwatering dinner of takeout—the same Italian food Darius got us on our first “date” back at the VIP room of Glitter—we tuck Iris into bed. Deciding today has been so perfect, I’ll wait to tell her about Harrison tomorrow.

“But I want Lucky to sleep in my room,” Iris begs as we tuck her into bed.

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “Sometimes cats like to play at night, and it’s already way past your bedtime,” I explain.

“Please, Darius,” Iris begs with puppy dog eyes, already trying to work over her stepdad.

“Mama knows best,” he says. “Lucky will be nice and cozy in her cat condo, and when you wake up, she’ll be ready to play,” he assures her, kissing the top of her head. If the man wasn’t already getting lucky, his backing me up would seal the deal.

We give Iris a hug and kiss goodnight, flipping off her light and closing the door.

Following Darius downstairs, I ask him, “Do you have any wine?” I could use a glass after the events of today.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Ever?” I wonder.

“Nah, my old man was a piece of shit alcoholic. So whatever he did in his pathetic life, I make a point to do the opposite.”

“You’re a good man,” I tell him.

“I’m many things, little angel, but good isn’t one of them,” he corrects me.

“Don’t make me spank your ass,” I warn him, and he laughs.

My playful mood sobers when I remember why I asked for the wine. “I found out earlier today Iris’ dad passed away. I don’t know the details, but he was shot in what appears to be a robbery at his house.”

“That’s why the detective came to see you,” Darius guesses.

I nod. “He acted like I was involved in Harrison’s death.”

He snorts. “That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank you,” I say, blowing out a breath.

“Does Iris know about her dad?”

“No, I’m going to tell her tomorrow. One big change at a time.”

“Alright,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I have some calls to make. Why don’t you go on to bed?”

“Yeah,” I say, exhaustion hitting me over the head like a ton of bricks even though I slept the afternoon away.

Walking to Darius’ bedroom—our bedroom, I correct myself—I grab my things and go to the bathroom, taking a nice, long bath. I climb out of the tub and dry off before putting on a tank top and panties. Giving my hair a quick brush, I halfway dry it with my hair dryer, too tired to finish.

Darius walks in and grabs his toothbrush—the two of us sharing space like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I break down into tears.

He spits and places his toothbrush down before scooping me up in his arms and carrying me to bed. “I’m feeling a lot of guilt for being this happy when Harrison just died,” I explain, dabbing my eyes.

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