Page 121 of Beating Heart
I prayed like hell that she signed the papers.
I didn’t want her money.
I only wanted my boy.
I was on my way to pick up Cutler but went home first. I wanted to talk to Emerson. I’d been short this morning, and I’m sure I’d freaked her out. My ex showing up was not pleasant for anyone. But Emerson deserved a lot more of an explanation than I’d given her.
I knocked on the back door, and she didn’t answer. I used my key and went inside.
No Emerson.
No Winnie.
Fuck.
I checked the garage, and her car was gone.
Hey, where’d you go? I came to talk to you.
I waited a few minutes, and she didn’t respond. The text wasn’t showing as read, so maybe she had her phone off. I sent one more text. It’s what I should have said this morning.
There’s a lot of shit going on, but it has nothing to do with you. I love you.
I love you, beautiful.
I’m saying it twice because it’s what I should have said this morning.
I glanced at the time and groaned. I needed to go grab my boy and get to the Golden Goose.
I’d had to give my father the short version of what we’d decided to do. He was nervous; I could see it in his eyes. He’d asked about Emerson, and I’d told him I’d asked her to give me some time to figure my shit out.
“Listen, I thought your taste in women was shit up until you met that girl. Don’t mess it up. She’s a keeper,” he said, as he walked us out to my truck.
“I’m aware. I’m going to do whatever it takes,” I said, and he pulled me into a hug, which was not the norm for him. My dad wasn’t much of a sentimental guy.
“You deserve to be happy, son. You’re a really good man. It’ll all work out.”
“Thanks,” I said, holding up a hand and getting into my truck as Cutler waved goodbye through the window, and I pulled down the driveway.
“Is Emerson coming to dinner?”
“No, not tonight, buddy. It’s just Tara. She wants to spend a little time with you.”
“I don’t think Tara likes Emerson. She wasn’t nice to her this morning,” he said.
“You saw Emerson this morning?”
“Yep. I wanted to hug her and Winnie. Tara got mad at me after we left.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “What does that mean, she got mad at you?”
“I told Emerson that I loved her, and Tara didn’t like that.”
“What did she say?”
“She said that she’s my mama, and Emerson is nobody. And when I said that she wasn’t nobody and that me and Pops loved her, she said I was a little brat.”
This fucking woman was not going to go anywhere near my kid without me ever again.
