Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
And I knew whether she did or not that, eventually, he’d do the same to his son.
At least, he would have — but that was before I came into the picture.
And as long as Madelyn was okay with it, I’d burn that motherfucker down in court and make sure he couldn’t ever hurt Sebastian.
Whatever she decided, I’d stand by her side. I just hoped with every ounce of my being that she agreed we should go for full custody. I prayed she’d resist the urge to see the best in her ex-husband, that she’d fight against reason that might have told her that Marshall hadn’t done anything to deserve being torn from his kid.
In the end, it wasn’t my decision. But whatever path we took, I’d be there to fight for both of them. I’d keep them safe. I’d love them. I’d lay down my life for them if I had to.
They were my family.
The heaviness of that statement surprised me a bit as I walked down the hall toward the living room. It seemed impossible, to feel this much for two people in such a short amount of time. In a matter of months, they’d become everything to me. I couldn’t imagine living without them. I couldn’t remember what my life had been like before. Partying, drinking, a different girl in my bed every week… who even was that man?
I didn’t recognize him.
And I definitely didn’t miss him.
When I made it to the living room, I leaned a shoulder against the wall, smiling at where Madelyn was seated on the couch. She’d put everything from dinner away and washed the dishes already, and now she was curled up at the corner of the sectional with a journal in her lap.
Her metallic hair was half-tied up in a small ponytail, strands of it framing her face and falling down over the back of her neck. The oversized cream sweater she wore covered her hands and slid off one shoulder, and even under the blanket in her lap, I could see the ridiculous fuzzy socks she’d been wearing all night.
She looked cozy and tired, and all I wanted was to wrap her in my arms.
But she also looked… sad.
Scared.
I couldn’t place it earlier. I knew she was off by how quiet she’d been all night, but I assumed it was just because she was tired. After all the shit we’d been through in the past week, how could she not be? I hoped me taking over picking up Sebastian and making dinner and getting him ready for bed would alleviate some of that, but I knew the truth was that a mom’s job was never done. She would always have something to do, even with my help, and she’d probably have many days where she’d be tired just like this.
Still, there was another layer to those weary eyes. The way her brows tugged inward, the way she chewed at the inside of her lower lip and nervously fidgeted with the pen in her hand…
“I don’t know that he’ll fall right to sleep, but he didn’t fight me on it,” I said. “He seems pretty excited from all the football talk.”
Madelyn’s smile was weak. “He adores you.”
“I adore him back.”
Her brown eyes watered, lip wobbling as she looked at the pen and journal in her lap.
“Hey,” I said, walking over to sit down next to her. I pulled the pen and notebook from her hands and set them aside before pulling her legs into my lap. “Is this about Marshall? Because I promise, he won’t be bothering us. I made it clear that—”
“No,” she said, cutting me off with a shake of her head. She lifted her eyes to mine only a split second before she was burying her face in her hands. “Oh, God, Kyle. I… I have to tell you something.”
“Okay,” I said softly, taking her hands in mine and squeezing. “Tell me. I’m right here.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered, folding her lips together. “It… it’s a big something. And I’m terrified of how you’ll react because I…”
She couldn’t even finish the sentence, her eyes wide and filled with horror before she squeezed them tightly and shook away whatever thought was making her pulse race.
And now it was my thoughts running wild.
Because I’m a sick fucking bastard, the first thing I thought was that she’d slept with someone. But even before my stomach could fully drop at the possibility, I batted it away. She would never. I knew without an ounce of hesitation.
But then what could it be?
My mind cycled through every scenario it could think of while I waited for her to speak. She was sick. She didn’t want to move in with me. She didn’t want to move Sebastian. She didn’t love me. She didn’t want to get married. She didn’t want to be together at all.