Page 18 of Golden Ruin

I nod, offering little more than a tight smile.

“We can head upstairs,” he says, pausing to slip my bag over his shoulder.

I grip the banister, planning to make the climb on my own, but Sterling’s with me again, resting his hand at the small of my back like he isn’t sure my legs work. As my mom trails us, and undoubtedly watches us, I can practically hear the woman’s thoughts. She’s always believed there was unfinished business between Sterling and me, and I’m sure this visual is only feeding that delusion.

“I’ve got four rooms you can choose from,” Sterling offers as we reach the top of the steps, but he doesn’t have to bother with the full tour. I’ve already worked out a plan.

“I’ll stay with Jaxon. Just point me toward his room.”

Sterling arches a brow.

“He’s already having nightmares,” I explain. “And I’ll only be here a couple weeks, so it doesn’t make sense to take up two rooms.”

I smile to break up some of the tension as Sterling stares. For a moment, I’m worried I might’ve offended him, like I might seem ungrateful, but shouldn’t he be relieved I don’t intend to overstay my welcome? Doesn’t he want his space to be that again?

His?

He stares a few seconds longer, then nods slowly. “Sure. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

I nod back as we start walking again.

We follow the catwalk, and I peer down into the great room. The space seems even bigger from an aerial view, but it could be that I’m just now noticing the dramatic curtains spilling down the floor-to-ceiling windows, pooling beside the fireplace like small lakes.

The hallway curves, and we pass open bedroom after open bedroom, each fully furnished and styled by that team of decorators Sterling mentioned. To the right, double-doors were left open, and I steal a glance inside what has to be the primary suite. A four-post California king sits in the middle of the room, facing a wall of windows overlooking the woods out back. In the middle, a set of sliding doors lead to a balcony with what appears to be two comfortable loungers positioned near an outdoor fireplace.

If I had to choose a word to describe Sterling’s personal space, or this entire house, that word would be lavish.

Hands down.

We keep going without him calling attention to his bedroom, but we stop at the one right beside his.

“This is Jax’s room,” he says.

Before stepping in, the full-wall mural of the jungle has already caught my eye. The lion peeking out from the greenery, the snake slithering down a path, a monkey mid-swing among the branches. I’m still studying it, mouth open as we enter.

“Holy shit.”

Leave it to Mom to take the words right out of my mouth.

Sterling stops in the doorway, shoving both hands inside his pockets as he leans against the door frame, letting us walk Jaxon’s space, taking in all the work that went into it. As much as Sterling would love for our boy to be into football, he knows the kid loves animals. So, he decorated for Jax, not himself.

“This has to be the coolest bunkbed I’ve ever seen,” Mom says with a smile, walking closer to run her fingers along the frame, then down the steps.

It looks custom-made. I can’t imagine him finding anything that looks like an actual treehouse in any furniture store I’ve ever seen. A large shelf covered in fake vines has every stuffed animal a kid could ever dream of, and there’s an identical one lined with books and toys on the other side of the window. Even the light fixture is on theme. A glowing beehive hanging from the middle of the ceiling.

My eyes lower to the leaf-shaped rug, and Sterling notices the toy dinosaur in the middle of it half a second before I do.

“Careful,” he says, swooping in to grab it just as my foot grazes the tail. “Jax must’ve left that down the last time he was here.”

“Only one toy? I swear he used to dump his entire toy box out at home.”

Sterling laughs softly, but I realize I misspoke as I look around. This is Jax’s home, too.

I take a breath and, for the first time since I agreed to stay here, this feels like a good idea. Jaxon needs this.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mom says quietly, calling attention to my tears. I’m not even sure why I’m crying, but I suppose my emotions are still high. And it may also have something to do with how amazing it is that Sterling put so much thought into making this space special for our son.

“Sorry,” I say, choking back a sob as I laugh. “It’s beautiful. You outdid yourself.” Another laugh slips out. “Shit, now I have to try to match this when I decorate his next room.”