Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
And there, smack in the middle, I see the word Colt in cursive script. Bold and decisive. That’s definitely new.
The sight swings a hammer at my heart.
She just had to go and do that shit.
Get her son’s name tattooed on her arm. I’m not against tattoos when I’ve got a few myself, but I’ve always made it a rule to never wear anyone’s name.
People are too transient, fading in and out of life.
If I’d tattooed Rina’s name on my flesh, I would’ve carved it off rather than keep staring at the bitter reminder.
Back when we were together, I know she felt the same way. My name’s nowhere on her body—I can guarantee that.
But now she’s gone and branded herself with Colt’s name permanently.
“You of all people should know how hard it is to swallow your pride and admit you screwed up,” she snaps. “But here I am, doing it. Trying to, anyway. Doesn’t that count?”
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Why you’re actually here, swallowing your pride. The motive matters. It depends what you want out of this, Ri.” I stand in front of her, appreciating for the first time how small she is.
Winnie, she’s short too, but the coppery red hair and her boundless energy somehow make her seem taller.
Rina has folded in on herself, her eyes drilling through me. She stands like one more wrong word could break her.
“I’ve done a lot of growing up over the past few months, you know,” she says quietly, looking up at me like I can see the truth in her face. “A lot, okay? The last few years were rough. There’s a ton I regret. I just want to know my son before he’s a grown man. Before it’s too late… Is that really such a crime?”
Fuck me.
She’s saying all the right things, plucking the old heartstrings like a banjo. But there’s still that muddy ball of distrust she built over years of disappointment. I can’t just blink and shove the dirt aside.
If I believe her, if I give her another chance, it’s too likely she’ll let me down again—and more importantly, let Colt down, too.
I can’t let that happen.
My boy isn’t a grown man yet. He’s still a kid, susceptible to heartbreak and bad decisions. Having his mother abandon him for the fiftieth time when he’s old enough to understand it might scar him for life.
Fuck that.
Colt deserves better than a part-time parent who ghosts in and out of his life whenever she pleases. A parent who says the right words but doesn’t follow through.
A parent who only loves until she gets bored.
Yes, I get it.
Being a parent of any kind is fucking hard.
I learned that lesson better than anyone, and even though I’ve tried my best, I’ve made my mistakes. Now, I just don’t want to open him up to more hurt.
Only, the way Rina looks at me, all big eyes and that wounded expression, makes me think maybe I’m misjudging the situation.
She’s spent enough time away from us, living her life. What if she has come to her senses?
What if she just wants to be a positive force in his life before it’s too late?
Part of me thinks it already is.
Then again, if it was too late, Colt wouldn’t be hanging out with her like this. He wouldn’t answer her questions so gently, so freely, chatting up his accomplishments and smiling at her stories about beautiful beaches in Oregon and California.
He wants a mom.
Before I can say anything, or even figure out what the hell to say, Mom comes strolling back in the room.
“Trampoline is up and he’s jumping his heart out,” she says, all smiles and pleasantry.
It’s insane how she manages when she might just hate Rina more than I do.
Back when we first got together, she told me not to go through with it. The marriage, the counseling when the relationship was hanging by a thread, the everything.
The past is the past, though, and Mom’s mature enough to figure maybe there’s something more going on.
Adelaide Rory is a forgiving woman. She always gives people the benefit of the doubt, even when Rina Desmona only ever lets people down.
I guess that’s why I’m so damn protective over her, trying to keep away people who might exploit her generosity. It happens every year at her art shows and it pisses me off.
I’ll be fucked if Rina will be one more of those people.
She gives me another glance and smiles awkwardly at Mom. I think she knows as well as anyone that Mom doesn’t like her standing here, barfing up her heart.
“I’ll head out and find Colt, then. Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”
We don’t speak until after she leaves the room. Then Mom sits on the sofa and looks at me.
“This could be a good thing, Archer,” she says.
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Rina moving on and getting her act together means a lot for Colt. He’s at such a tender age. More importantly, it gives you a chance to move on.”