Chris's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "Ah, no, not this one."
Had I said something wrong? I got the feeling I did but I kept my mouth shut so I didn't embarrass myself again.
Unlike adults, children have no filter. Zoey had no problem cutting to the heart of the matter.
"That apartment's for rich people!" she said.
I glanced at the building. It was about ten years old, so not that old, but it wasn't cutting-edge or anything. My mind connected the dots. If Zoey thought that was a "rich person" apartment, they must live somewhere a little more run-down.
Chris was avoiding my gaze. His cheeks were pink and he ducked his head, his eyes on the asphalt. Was he... ashamed? I was so confused. He had nothing to be ashamed about.
When we finally reached our destination, Chris cleared his throat. "Well... here it is."
An old parking lot, cracked by erosion and time, was surrounded by a few low-rise buildings. The decades had taken an obvious toll on them.
"Which one is yours?" I asked, trying to keep the mood cheerful.
Chris led me to the most dilapidated one of all—and that was putting it nicely. I was surprised the building didn't fall apart in a stiff breeze. The smell of cigarette smoke and various mystery odors stained the front entryway. The ancient threadbare carpet felt like an old toothbrush under my shoes.
Zoey skipped towards the stairwell. Apparently, there was no elevator.
"We're only a few floors up," Chris said sheepishly.
"No worries," I said. "I don't mind walking."
I felt bad that Chris felt bad. Did he think I was judging him? I'd never do such a thing to my fated mate.
"Let me grab a bag so you're not climbing the stairs with so much to carry," Chris offered.
"It's fine, I promise. Have you seen my biceps? This is nothing.” I winked. “Plus you and Zoey lightened the load, remember?"
His cheeks flushed pink as they focused on my muscles. He tore his gaze away. "Okay, if you're sure."
Their apartment was tidy but suffered from the same slow state of decay as the rest of the building. The front door stuck if you didn't shove it at a particular angle, and the window appeared to be jammed.
"Can you go clean up, Zo?" Chris asked.
"Kaaaay."
As she ran off to the single bathroom to wash up, Chris sighed and sat on the couch. It looked like it had seen better days. I sat on an old juice stain, covering it up with my butt.
"Sorry," Chris mumbled. "I know it's not exactly the Ritz."
I clicked my tongue. "Never apologize for where you live. I don't mind at all."
That wasn't exactly true. I minded a little bit, but only because I wanted Chris to live withme.I also knew Chris deserved better. I pictured him roaming my palace halls. He would fit right in.
Chris glanced at the closed bathroom door, then turned back to me. "It's been rough since my ex left us,” he said quietly.
The hair on the back of my neck bristled as if brushed by a cold wind. My manticore soul paced angrily, swatting at this invisible ex. I couldn't forgive anyone who acted so callously and put my fated mate and his young child in such a precarious situation.
"I can't even imagine," I growled. "Someone like that doesn't deserve to be called a man, but then again, it's an insult to children everywhere to call him a man-child."
That made Chris laugh. "You're right. My four-year-old is better behaved than him."
"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"
A shadow passed over Chris's expression, turning his usually warm and gentle expression dark. "It's nothing exciting. Tripp just left me for an omega of 'better breeding'." He rolled his eyes. "I didn't know people still did that in this day and age."
