Page 4 of Cinder
“Sections are normal.”
“You had a scoring system.”
“For consistency!”
Colt huffs a laugh. “You rejected one because she said shedidn’t mind kids.”
I point at him. “Because that’s not an answer, that’s a red flag.”
“See?” Fletch gestures toward me with a sigh. “This is what we’re dealing with.”
Ghost shrugs. “He’s being thorough.”
“Correct. Because I’m responsible.”
“Mm,” Colt says. “You’re a lot of things.”
“You guys always this invested in my personal life, or is today special?”
“Always,” Fletch says easily. “We’re very supportive.”
“You’ll never escape us, bud,” adds Colt.
Ghost’s mouth twitches, and he nods while his soft eyes hold mine. I ignore them, and focus back on the table, swiping the rag across the clean surface one more time.
“Seven,” Ghost mutters.
I pause with a scowl, but the corner of my mouth gives me away. Same shit, different morning.
It’s not like I haven’t figured stuff out before. You learn fast when there’s no one else to pick up the slack.
Mom’s been gone long enough now that the edges of the loss have dulled, but the gap never really refilled. Dad checked out well before she passed—he’s physically still around, but it never really made much difference. He’s never been interested in me. So by the time I packed up and relocated to Maplewood with my girlfriend Stacey, he barely noticed or cared.
I got Stacey to agree to move out here. Thought a fresh start and small-town living away from the shit she’d been involved with in the city would fix things. Loosen her attachment to the people, the habits, and trouble she always swore she was done with. For a while, that’s exactly what Maplewood did.
And when Elle was born, everything changed. She made our life feel real. We were planting roots and making something special together.
But then came the rest…
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck, cutting the thought off before it can go any further. No point digging into it now. There’s nothing there I haven’t already gone over a hundred times.
But sometimes, late at night, when the house is quiet and Elle’s asleep down the hall, I’ll pull up my phone and search the obituaries out of Toronto. Just to make sure.
“Ev.”
Colt’s voice cuts back in, sharper than before.
“Yeah, fine.” I sigh and chuck the rag back into the sink. “I’ll get it handled.”
He studies me for a beat, then nods once. Fletcher doesn’t.
“As I said, you gotta actuallydosomething about it, otherwise you’re just waiting for a magical fix.”
I exhale, shaking my head. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Shocking.”
