I jolt when she gently touches my face and brings my gaze back to her. “Where have you been?”
“Around.”
She gives me the most adorable eye roll. She used to do that all the time. How can she look exactly the same as I remember?
“I know that. I want to hear everything. All the places you saw. The people you met. I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished.”
Her praise and the way she always saw good in me, even when it didn’t exist, shoots happiness straight into my blackened heart.
“Beware the devil that disguises itself as an angel of light.”It’s an old Bible verse. One Elizabeth never did heed. But that’s the problem with angels and devils. Angels see good in the darkness, while devils lurk in the shadows, waiting for the chance to steal something pure and corrupt it. By the time the devil realizes what’s happening, it’s too late because the angel he took was already carving her name into his soul.
Elizabeth bumps my shoulder. “Since you seem to be tongue-tied, I’ll give you something easy. What was your favorite place you visited?”
I thoughtfully consider her question, wanting to give her something real. Wanting her to see the man I’ve become because of her.
“Africa.”
“Why?”
“The people, for one. The diversity of their cultures and their deep connection to their communities and land. Africa also has the most gorgeous sunsets. The sun looks three times larger as it rises and sets. And the land is breathtaking. Everywhere youlook is beauty. It was humbling. Before she got married, I took Harper on a safari, but she did more painting than sightseeing.”
Harper is one of my half sisters. I don’t get to see her as often since she and her husband moved to Texas to be closer to our other brother, Jordan.
“I bought one of her paintings. It’s hanging in the guest room.”
“I know. She wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks. You were the first person to buy something from her gallery. Enough about me. Tell me about your children.”
I already know everything about Christopher, Marcus, and Charlotte. Just because Elizabeth hasn’t seen me these past twenty years doesn’t mean that I haven’t been around.
Just as I had hoped, she lights up at the mention of her kids. Taking out her phone from her skirt pocket, I lean in closer when she proudly shows me a picture of them standing with Julien and Elijah’s sons. The greenish Atlantic waters and white sandy beach provide a perfect backdrop to the happy image of the five friends.
“Marcus and Christopher are spitting images of Ryder. Marcus is running the garage now. Christopher just turned seventeen, and Charlotte is my baby girl.” Her voice wavers as she touches the screen and enlarges the picture before continuing. “Marcus has Ryder’s amber eyes. Christopher’s are green like mine. Charlotte has my blonde hair and Ryder’s smile, but her eyes are the most striking. Green circled with a ring of copper. The other two boys are Grant and Nicholas, Julien’s sons. Grant and Charlotte started dating a few months ago,and…I’m rambling. I’ll shut up now.”
Elizabeth looks up at me, a tender smile exploding across her face, and it’s almost my undoing.
Goddamn you, Ry. She deserves better. What the hell were you thinking?
“Your children are beautiful, Kitten.”
Putting her phone away, she peers down at the water below as tourists jostle by us, snapping pictures and talking excitedly. The melancholy from before returns on her face. It’s the same expression she wore as I silently watched her at the café, and it shrouds her like a suffocating blanket, extinguishing the joy she just had when talking about her children.
“I have so much to tell you. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“You can tell me tonight over dinner.”
Her head whips up, hope and surprise comingling. “You’re staying?”
I know I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, but damn if I don’t jump into the fire anyway.
And god help anyone who tries to take her away from me again.
Chapter Five
ELIZABETH
Womaning the Fuck Up
The momentthe hotel room door clicks shut behind me, my back collapses against it, and I slide to the floor in a boneless heap, like a marionette whose strings have been abruptly severed. Drawing my knees up, I bury my head between them.
