“Yeah.She, she took everything.Cleared out the apartment.My van.My cash.My credit cards.Hell, even my damn PlayStation.”
I stare at him.
“You mean she tookmycash,myvan, and the credit cards you opened inmyname?”I ask flatly.
He ignores that.
“I had to beg my parents to let me move back in,” he continues miserably.“They’re furious.They keep saying we ruined everything, but it was mainly your fault.”
Of course, they do.
Mike runs a hand through his hair.
“And now I hear you’re getting married?”he says, disbelief dripping from every word.“Already?”
I fold my arms.
“I don’t believe this,” I mutter.
“I mean, Kelly, you’re really getting married to that old guy?”
“Mike, you need to leave,” I reply.
“Yeah, right,” Mike scoffs.“You want me to just leave you and Evan to some stranger?”
The way he says it makes my jaw tighten.
“Oh my God.What do you want, Mike?”I ask again, slower this time.
His expression suddenly changes.
His shoulders sag.
“I want to see Evan.”
The words hit me like a rock to the chest.
“He’s my son too, Kelly,” Mike says softly.“I miss him.”
For half a second—just half a second—I almost feel something like pity.
Then he opens his mouth again.
“But from what I hear you’ve got some big, scary guy playing house now.Real classy.I leave town for a little while, trying to make a better life for myself, and suddenly you can’t even raise our kid without running off to marry some old lumberjack?—”
“This old lumberjack,” a deep voice cuts in behind him, “is about two seconds away from rearranging your face.”
My heart jumps.
I turn.
J.T.is standing in the doorway.
And he looks furious.
Not loud furious.
Not yelling furious.
