Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

There I sat, asking my twelve-year-old son who didn’t know he was my kid and his little brother for permission to kiss their mom.

Just awesome.

“Eww,” Dillon cried, acting like he was gagging.

Benjamin dropped his head in embarrassment, redness blooming on his cheeks.

“What do you think about that, Big Ben?” I prodded.

He lifted his head. “You want to beeee her boyfrrrriend?”

“I do.”

I wanted to be her everything.

Didn’t say it out loud.

Didn’t think anyone was ready for that.

He stared over at me, that fierce, brave little man I was coming to know surging to the surface. “Did you know both our dads didn’t lovvvvve her enough? They lllleft her. She dddoesn’t think I hhheeear her, but ssssometimes she cries at night, and I know whhhhy. Because I maaake it that she has to be allllone.”

Pain slammed me, as intense as the hurt and shame that contorted my son’s expression.

A crushing, devastating blow.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Maybe they were just cowards. Not brave enough to stay,” I forced out, words choppy.

“Are you a cowwward?”

“I don’t want to be. Not anymore.”

It was a confession without divulgence.

“My mmmom is ggggood,” he told me, and there was a warning woven in it.

“And so pretty,” Dillon added, mouth covered in ice cream.

“Your mom is amazing,” I told them, words rough. “She’s perfect to me. She’s always been. And I want her to know that.”

“Okkkay then,” Benjamin said, his nod slow, like he was asking me to agree. Trusting me that I got it.

“Deal! Are we on the same team, now? Mom said we gotta stick together. Be a team because we only got each other.”

Heart in my throat, I nodded at Dillon.

“Would be the best thing in the world for me if I got to be on your team.”

If I got to love you.

Protect you.

Keep you.

All those things scrambled around in my chest, calling out their claim.

Overcome, I cleared the emotion from my throat, knowing I needed to change the subject and get the hell out of there before I admitted things Izzy didn’t want me to admit.

I glanced at my phone. “We’d better get you two cleaned up. We need to be at your mom’s work in fifteen minutes.”

Dillon shoved the rest of his ice cream cone into his mouth, barely able to chew around the mess, grin stretching wide around the pink smeared all over his face. He held his hands out to the sides.

“All done.”

I managed to laugh. “Think I’m going to have to dunk you in the sink.”

He giggled the cutest sound.

Everything clutched and sped.

Fuck, I’d gotten in deep. So deep. Sinking in surrender.

Slipping out from behind the hard booth, I helped Dillon jump down and reached out for Benjamin. He took my hand, and I helped him slide out, kneeling down in front of him so I could help him put on his forearm crutches.

“There we go,” I whispered low, glancing up at him, time freezing for a second when I met the depth in his eyes.

Did he know? Could he feel it?

Sucking it down, I straightened and led them both to the restroom to wash their faces and hands. Then I led them back out to the truck where I helped both of them buckle into their booster seats, Benjamin’s a special one with about fifteen latches.

Whole time I was clicking him into his seat, I could feel a thousand questions coming off of him.

I drove out of Charleston and headed to Broadshire Rim. The shopping center where the dentist’s office was located was in the newer area closer to Charleston, and the drive went by fast, even faster with Dillon chattering the whole time.

Kid nonstop.

Perfect in his disorder.

Just like his mom.

Just like his brother.

Benjamin laughed at something he said, and lightness weaved its way into the air, and I was shaking my head with a chuckle as I turned on my blinker and slowly pulled into the parking lot.

I started to whip into a spot in front of the building.

Second I did, my spirit chugged.

Nothing but an assault of jealousy that flamed and lashed.

Coming on bright from that dark, dark pit.

Possession slammed me, a jumpstart in my veins that made every inch of me shake.

Izzy was outside the door, key in the lock.

The prick who’d been all up on her on Monday was leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

Looking like a pompous douche.

Eyes grazing her flesh like he was figuring out how long it was going to be until he got to taste it.

He reached out, touched her arm as he said something that I wished I could hear, and she swiveled her head that way, that blonde flowing around her back and a smile on her face as she said something back.

Would pay a pretty penny to hear that, too.

Head craned to the side, his mouth moved as he adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder where it had started to slip.