Page 151 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

She doesn’t answer, watching me with those huge eyes that see too much.

“I didn’t mean to yell.”

“You’re angry,” she whispers.

“No.” My throat constricts painfully. “No, I’m just…”

Terrified.

“I’m stressed,” I finish instead.

“Because of work?” Her voice is so innocent it burns.

“Yes,” I lie softly. “Because of work.”

She studies my face like she’s deciding whether to believe me.

“Okay.” She finally nods once, accepting it because I gave it to her.

“Finish eating, alright?” I kiss her forehead quickly before standing again, forcing myself back into motion before emotion glues me to the floor. “We need to go now.”

Blue nods and walks back toward the kitchen slower this time, glancing back once before disappearing around the corner.

The second she’s gone, Aisha exhales deeply.

I don’t look at her. I can’t. I already know what’s sitting on her face. And I can’t survive being judged for falling apart while trying not to.

The roadahead of us is endless, the van hot and shimmering under the morning sun.

I grip the steering wheel harder than necessary, my eyes fixed forward even when there’s nothing to focus on except asphalt and distance.

Behind me, Blue sits dramatically slumped in her car seat, arms folded across her chest in a way that makes her look punched by life.

Every few seconds, she sighs loudly and on purpose.

“Are you done protesting?” I glance at her briefly.

“No.” She shakes her head firmly.

“You’re still mad at me?” I almost smile.

“Yes.”

“That’s unfortunate.” I tease.

She sighs again, longer this time.

“I only wanted to know, because you said I should always ask before following.”

“I know, baby.” I nod, proud of myself for raising such a fierce one.

“But you shouted.” she accuses.

The guilt comes back instantly, burrowing through my chest.

I loosen one hand from the wheel long enough to reach over and squeeze her feet gently.

“I said I was sorry.”