I cradled my daughter close to my chest, inhaling her unique scent. I tenderly kissed the top of her head as my nerves set in as I prepared myself to face my own mother for the first time in a very, very, long time.
“Stop stressing,” Jonathon eyed me from where he sat on the couch with our son sleeping in his arms.
“I’m not,” I lied.
“I’m a lot of things, principessa, and stupid isn’t one of them,” he rolled his silver eyes.
“Okay, so maybe I’m a little nervous,” I admitted, pacing the length of the room, bouncing my wide-eyed daughter in my arms. A smile graced my lips as I looked down at her. How had I gotten this lucky? How was it possible that all of this was mine?
“She misses you,” Jonathon whispered.
“I miss her too,” I whispered. “But after what happened when we first moved here…I needed to be away from her for a while. I was angry and I needed space.” Having my own children though, had made me realize what I was missing out on. You only have one set of parents and I’d already lost my dad. It was selfish of me not to have spoken to my mother in so long. I would never want my children to treat me the way I had treated my mom.
I bounced Makenna in my arms as I prepared myself to see my mom.
“Kylie, don’t shake her to death,” Jonathon warned.
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sp; “Oh,” I mumbled, glancing apologetically down at Makenna. “Sorry sweetie,” I murmured, kissing her plump pink cheek.
My spine stiffened as my ears registered noise outside the front door.
She was here.
The door opened slowly—or maybe it only seemed to slow to me—and then my mom stood before me.
“Mom,” I gasped, staring at the vampire in front of me. She looked almost exactly as I remembered, only now her once olive-toned skin was a pearly white, and her eyes were silver. Her brown hair was still styled in a bob, but instead of straight, the ends had a slight wave to them.
“Kylie,” her smile was small—almost embarrassed.
I handed Makenna off to Amelia, who now stood beside me, and closed the distance between my mom and I.
I wrapped my arms tightly around her and a strangled sob escaped my throat—it was a funny sound, nothing like the sobs of a human, and no tears touched my eyes.
“I’ve missed you,” she confessed, running her fingers through my long hair. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“Of course,” I replied, still not pulling away from the hug. “I should have a long time ago, and I’m sorry for that.”
She grabbed my arms and pushed me back a bit so she could look me up and down.
“You’re beautiful, Kylie,” she smiled. “Now, where’s those grandbaby’s of mine that everyone is talking about.”
Jonathon stepped up behind me, placing a hand on my waist, and handed Ren to my mom.
She immediately started cooing at the baby, a wide smile on her face. “What’s his name?”
“Byren,” I answered, “but we call him Ren.”
She raised a questioning brow at the name. “My father’s name was Baron,” Jonathon explained. “Kylie thought naming him Byren would honor his memory.”
“Oh,” she nodded. Smiling, she said, “Your accent…it’s different…not quite Italian…but it doesn’t sound like anything I’ve heard.”
Jonathon’s hand rubbed slow circles on my back. “Yes, it is. I was born in Italy but after I was turned, I spent hundreds of years traveling. My accent is a mix of everything.”
“Hmmm,” she nodded, gazing at Ren. “He looks like you, Kylie,” she smiled at me.
I laughed. “He does, and Makenna looks like Jonathon.”