Page 67 of Golden Ruin

What was lost.

What could’ve been.

I just… I can’t keep doing this.

Mom stares as I swipe an angry tear from my cheek. Tonight was already hard enough, being under the same roof as Amelia, now I’m dealing with this on top of it.

“I’m sorry,” Mom whispers, pulling me into a hug. “You know what’s best for you and Jax, and I support whatever decision you make.

Eventually, the chip falls off my shoulder, and I hug her back. She always means well, so I let it go.

“Help me carry the food out?” she asks.

I nod. “Sure.”

She takes a few seconds to wrap Amelia’s plate and pops it into the fridge. Then, we walk everything out to the dining room table.

Jax and Robbie share a whispered, “Yes!” that makes me smile, erasing some of the tension from my chat with Mom.

Sterling and I lock eyes, and before I can look away, he mouths a concerned, “You okay?”

It catches me off guard, but of course he can tell I’ve been crying. He notices everything.

Always.

I force a smile and nod, mouthing back, “I’m good.”

I feel his eyes on me even after I look away, helping Mom place the food. I hate that he knows I’m emotional right now, but hopefully he thinks it’s about Amelia.

And not that, in recent days, I’ve become painfully aware of my lingering feelings for him.

“Saved you a seat, Lex,” Luisa calls out, and she smiles coyly like I don’t know what she’s doing, not-so-casually placing me right between her and Sterling.

She’s a lot like my mom. She means well, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t have a knack for sticking her nose everywhere it doesn’t belong.

I smile at her as I drop down into the seat, digging my nails into her thigh as soon as I scoot underneath the table. She hisses a quiet, “Ouch,” but doesn’t retaliate, because she knows she’s earned it.

“Anyone want to volunteer to say grace?” Benny asks, and to my surprise, Jax raises his hand.

“Ooh! I will, Grandpa!”

Benny’s face lights up. “That’s my boy. Take it away!”

We all lower our heads and join hands with the people beside us. Which, for me, includes Sterling. His palm is warm against mine, and while Luisa grips me like I’m being dragged to the principal’s office by a frustrated teacher, Sterling gently laces his fingers with mine.

I take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the way my body responds to my skin touching his.

“Thank you, Lord, for this food,” Jax begins, and I brace myself for whatever randomness my son is about to say. The last time he led the prayer, he thanked God for finally being able to poop. The result of four days of constipation after sneaking extra string cheese into his lunchbox.

“Thank you for Grandma and Grandpa Benny. Thank you for helping Robbie remember to bring back my green motorcycle I left at his house last time, even though I think he wanted to keep it.”

“Oh, God,” I mutter under my breath, and Luisa snorts a laugh beside me.

“Thank you for my mommy,” he adds. “She’s super nice and makes good grilled cheese.”

This time, it’s Sterling who’s laughing softly beside me.

“And thank you for my daddy. I’m really happy he came for dinner, and I hope he comes back next time. Amen.”