"Because you love them." I looked at her, my voice catching a little. "These past six years, when I missed you, I came here."
She turned her head. Our eyes met. I could see the shock in hers—and something softer underneath. We stood there, staring at each other. Neither of us spoke.
The morning light hit her face, and I could see the fine golden fuzz on her skin. Sexy as hell. Cute as hell. The scent of dahlias mixed with her faint body warmth, and it made my head spin. I swallowed hard.
"Mom—!" Olei's voice rang out from inside the house, shattering the moment.
Anthea flinched like she'd been startled awake. "Olei's up."
She turned and hurried back toward the house, her skirt flaring out behind her, showing a flash of her ankle. I watched her go, smiling to myself.
Run all you want. It's only a matter of time.
At the table, Olei sat right next to Anthea, eyes glued to her like she might vanish if he looked away.
I set down the eggs, bacon, and toast, then poured two glasses of milk. Added a little honey to Olei's—he liked it sweet.
"You made this?" Anthea stared at the plate.
"Surprised?" I poured myself a cup of black coffee. The bitterness hit my tongue, sharp and familiar. "Try it."
She picked up her fork, cut off a small piece of egg, and took a bite. Her expression shifted.
"It's really good. I thought..." She paused, choosing her words. "I didn't think you'd be good at this. But your cooking's actually great."
"I've learned a lot in the past six years." My eyes locked on her lips as she swallowed the food I'd made for her.
She didn't answer, just looked down and kept eating. But I saw her ears turn red.
Olei was shoveling bacon into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days. "Dad makes the best breakfast!"
Anthea looked up at me. "Guess you cook for him a lot."
"When I'm not busy." I set down my coffee. "Yeah."
She didn't say anything else, but I saw the way she looked at me—softer than before.
After breakfast, the three of us ended up in the entertainment room. Olei picked some animated adventure movie. Anthea and Olei curled up together on the couch, laughing at the screen every few minutes. And I realized I wasn't watching the movie at all. I was watching her.
She looked so bright when she smiled. So good. Six years ago, she smiled like that too—like she didn't know darkness existed in the world.
By nightfall,Olei finally crashed. Anthea tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and turned off the bedside lamp. I stood in the doorway, watching her move around him with such care, such ease—like she'd done it a thousand times before.
"He's asleep," she whispered, stepping out of the room and closing the door softly.
We walked down the hallway side by side. Moonlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting broken shadows on the floor. After we said goodnight, I watched her walk into her room. The door clicked shut behind her.
I stood there for a long time, staring at that door. Then I turned and went back to my own room, pulled up the camera feed.
Anthea was digging through her suitcase, tossing clothes andbottles onto the bed. Finally, she found a dress she liked and headed toward the bathroom.
I fished the spare key out of my drawer and walked to her room. The door opened without a sound. The second I stepped inside, her scent hit me—familiar, intoxicating, made my nerves light up.
The shower was running in the bathroom. She was in there. Naked. The thought alone sent blood rushing straight to my head.
Her clothes were scattered across the bed. A black dress. A blue camisole. And a pair of white panties—simple cotton with a lace trim, nothing sexual about them at all. Pure and innocent. But to me, they were the dirtiest thing in the world.
I zeroed in on that little scrap of white fabric, my breathing going rough and heavy. Those were hers. She'd worn them. Over and over.
