He scowls. “There was a call on my personal cell.”
“From who?” he asks.
“My mother,” he mutters.
“What?” we both ask, stunned.
“What does that bitch want?” I’m ready to go to war for my boy, my Sir—
My husband.
He studies his coffee for a moment. “My dad’s in the hospital. Guess they finally figured out Mimi’s dead. Mom demanded to know ‘what’ she’d left them in her will.” He looks up. “I guess they’re hurting for money.”
“Not your problem,” I say.
“I know it’s not.”
“Then what’s wrong, Jor?” Leo asks.
Okay, we’re dealing with this as equals now.
It takes him a moment to consider his answer. “I guess… I don’t know. Maybe I hoped they’d reach out and apologize? Get less shitty over the years? Something.”
“You’re not going to call her back, are you?” I ask.
“Ha! Fuck no. I blocked their number. But…” He meets my gaze. “I guess I sort of understand something now. Why you never cut Stella out of your life before.”
I nod. “Hope.”
“Yeah.” He sips his coffee. “Keep hoping until there’s none left. I thought, well, Stella seemed to have a last-minute change of heart. I choose to believe it was genuine. Maybe Mom and Dad would, too.”
Leo takes my mug, and then Jordan’s, setting them on the nightstand next to his. Which is a good call because Jordan bursts into tears and we roll him over me so he’s in the middle, and we engulf him in our arms, comforting him.
“Can I nuke themnow?” I grumble a few minutes later, which makes both of my husbands laugh, even though Jordan’s sounds tearful and a little snot-choked.
“Little late for that, pet,” Leo teases.
Talking about Stella this morning leads me down other mental trails. “Grace Martin,” I quietly say.
They both freeze, Jordan immediately looking to Leo and Leo refusing to look at me.
“What about her?” Leo says after thinking about it for too long.
I study them, the way Jordan’s defaulted to the boy deferring to his Daddy. No… it’s more than that.
It’s deeper.
But I shift my focus to Leo. To the way Leo’s looking like I’ve seen him look in the past when he’s considering employing a rat-fuck.
Leo finally takes a deep breath and meets my gaze. “She’s dead,” he quietly says. “She’s staying dead. And that’s all you need to know.” He sits up, grabs my mug of coffee, and hands it to me before reaching for his own.
Jordan’s frozen with fear, eyes wild, his total focus on Leo.
I know that look.
I know that fear.
I wonder if the nightmares Jordan had in the days and weeks immediately following Grace’s death have anything to do with that fear.
