She waved a hand at me. “I loved him. I guess I always will. But some people just aren’t built for family.”
A horrible silence stretched thin around us.
“Do you think you’ll want your room?” She shifted to face me and perked up.
“No. Why?”
Ren wrapped his arm around me, and KC hugged me from behind. I melted into their care and protection. I was fine, doing better than I’d thought I would, actually, but it was all because they were here with me.
“Well.... Since you seem happy where you’re at, I thought I might make it a nursery, but I won’t if that would upset you,” she said in a rush that made me feel slightly guilty.
“It’s okay.”
KC squeezed my middle.
“Good. I’ve had the decorating bug.” She flushed and her face matched her holiday skirt. “I already started priming the walls and stuff.”
“What?” I tossed up my hands. “You aren’t crawling up on a ladder in here, are you?” I shot toward my room—I guess the baby’s room now. There was nothing inside except drop cloths, cans of paint, rollers, and paint pans.
“Um. Where is the stuff I left here?” My stomach was a pit, but I wasn’t sure if it was because a space I’d thought of as mine had vanished or if it was due to the stepladder I finally spotted in a corner behind me. The walls had been patched and they were an odd light gray.
“Your dad boxed everything up and put it in the garage. I moved the bed. And it’s fine that I did.” She rolled her eyes. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her do that.
KC touched a large white patch on the wall. “What happened here?”
I frowned at the covered-up damage. “Yeah, Mom. There was no hole when I left.”
She sighed and bowed her head like she was extremely tired.
Ren ran his fingers around the spot. “What did that dickhead do?”
Mom leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Put his fist through the drywall when I told him. But I’ve fixed up enough crappy apartments. One hole is nothing.” She flashed around a toothy smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Too bad he didn’t hit a stud,” Ren muttered.
“What?” KC asked. His face contorted, and I’d never heard that angry edge in his voice. “Are you okay?” He rested a hand on her small shoulder.
“He didn’t take a swing at me. He was just upset.” She flicked her fingers at the patched wall as if she wanted to make it vanish, and if she’d painted yesterday, she would’ve.
“No, he just busted up your house.” Ren’s tone was dark, and a twisted part of me loved it. I wanted him to be pissed off because I was sure as hell mad that Dad had done that around Mom, especially knowing she was knocked up with his second kid.
“We can paint. Let us do it,” KC said, perking up at the idea of a project. He glanced around and his body language shifted the way it did when he was in the gym or on the field. He was ready to kick ass and slap down paint.
Ren crowded in next to us. “Did you ever apologize to Oliver for picking that deadbeat over him?” He stared directly into Mom’s eyes, and I shivered. Had anyone ever cared enoughabout me to glare at someone like that? I was one hundred percent sure he was the first.
But this was stillmy mom. “Leave it,” I snapped.
“Kitten, you deserve a real apology.”
Mom dove in for another hug, and Ren settled his hand on the back of my neck. “I truly thought your dad would calm down, and we would have a family Christmas. It was dumb. I don’t know why I held on to the idea of him coming back all those years. It was something I wanted so bad.”
“It hurt when you picked him.”
Ren maneuvered me into his arms, and Mom patted his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
The sound of someone shaking a can of paint pulled everyone’s attention to KC. My hands itched to run all over his chest. There was something about the confident way he stood that made me want to get on my knees. “We’re here. Let’s make this a painting party.”
