Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(92)

It was strange to miss having her around already. Even as I sat playing with Shawn, stacking blocks only to have him giggle when he knocked them down, the uneasy feeling began to coil around me. Prickling sensations ran through my body as my heart rate picked up speed. Being here, alone, the house felt both too big, yet confining at the same time.

I didn’t want to stay, and I knew I didn’t have to.





Chapter 49


Malcolm





I pulled into my driveway and hit the button for the garage. At first, I was confused when I saw tires, but a smile spread across my face when I realized whose car was parked there. I’d been bummed when Ginger declined to have dinner with me tonight. I’d planned on calling her to see if she wanted to hang out later, but here she was. I parked, grabbed my takeout from the front seat, and headed into the house.

Laughter greeted me when I walked in. Ginger ran around acting like a monster or something, chasing Shawn. She stopped when she saw me.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

Shawn ran over, raising his arms so I could pick him up.

“I called first this time but—”

“I left my phone,” I finished for her as I walked over to give her a quick kiss.

“Yeah, I heard it buzz when I texted you after I got here.” She reached up to take Shawn from me. “Come here, you. Let Malcolm eat.”

My gaze dropped to watch her ass as she walked away. “Dorian’s gone now. Happy about that?”

She shrugged. “I suppose. Her new place is nice.”

Shawn walked back over to me as I took a seat at the island. I bent down to pick him up, gave him a fry. “You ‘suppose?’ Thought you’d be popping champagne bottles to celebrate.”

She started picking up some of the toys laying around. “Yeah, I thought so too, but the house felt empty. Crazy, right?”

“More,” Shawn said, leaning forward trying to get another fry.

“I promise I fed him.”

I gave him two this time. “No problem. Growing boy needs to eat. Have you been upstairs?”

She shook her head. “No, why?”

“I put together his crib and even decorated it.”

Shawn wiggled to get down so he could follow behind his mother when she left the room. I got up to follow her up the stairs.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” I was quite proud of the Carolina Panthers bedding I’d managed to find. “I ordered a Fathead for the wall, should be here next week. Along with a few other things to complete the theme.”

“A what?”

“A Fathead. A large, life-like decal. It’s awesome.”

She laughed. I put Shawn down, and he walked over to the crib, attempting to climb up the bars.

“Looks like he likes it.”

“I guess so. You’re trying to make him into a Panthers fan?”

“Hell, yeah. Need someone to be on my side. You don’t care and Mitch is all about the Falcons.”

“It looks good, Mal, and thank you for getting it set up.”

“No thanks needed. I had fun doing it. Is this just a visit or are you staying the night?”

Ginger walked over to pick up Shawn. “Staying the night, if that’s okay. It’s weird, I didn’t want Dorian to stay with me, but the house felt oddly empty with her gone.”

“I’m more than happy to keep you company.”

I didn’t want to read too much into her statement. Maybe she was starting to see that house for the haven of bad memories that it was, but I wouldn’t push. She was coming around on her own, which made it all that much more rewarding.

After I finished eating, I gathered their bags from her car while she picked out a movie for us to watch. Like last time, Shawn had fallen asleep before the end of it. I offered to put him down for her.

When I entered my room, Ginger was bent over her bag, digging through it, in only her beige bra and panties. My gaze was drawn to the scar on her back. I’d seen it. I’d felt it when we’d made love. I knew it was there, but that didn’t stop the renewed rage that crept up. It was bad enough that asshole left her with deep emotional scars, but he had to add physical too.

I walked over and ran my fingers down the length of it.

She jumped at the contact and looked back at me. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” I continued running my fingers down her back. The skin was smooth over the scar. Still, there were parts that were bumpy, as if the tissue had not healed correctly, causing a small lump.

She stood, holding a shirt to her chest. Her body tensed, as if my touching the scar pained her. My gaze traveled to that large ass tattoo on her shoulder. It might have actually been pretty, if not for his initials. I started to trace it with my finger. Ginger turned to face me, working to put her shirt on as she did.

She kept her head down. “It was an impulse decision.”

“Yours or his?”

Her head snapped up to look at me, deer in headlight expression on her face.

“There’s no way I’m going to believe you went out and got a tattoo after Shawn was born.”

Ginger started chewing on her thumbnail. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped, then turned away from me, and pulled on a pair of shorts.