“I’m right here,” she said.
He was kneeling on the floor in front of the televisionwith the remote in his hand. It was on a channel with a fisherman offering advice on the best way to lure fish in with a certain bait. She took the remote from Kian and motioned for him to get up on the couch.
“Did you pick out the movie yet?”
“Yeah, but we have to wait on Dad,” he said.
He climbed up on the couch, and she slid in next to him. He took the remote back from her. Just like his father. He started surfing the channels and was going in the wrong direction, away from all of the kid-friendly shows, but she wasn’t going to say anything.
“Why is Miss Sydney here?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Tachina had to force a neutral tone. Her son was always quick to sense when something was bothering her.
“I hope she don’t start yelling like she always do,” Kian muttered.
“Excuse me?” Tachina said.
“She always yells when talking to Dad.” He tried to mimic her voice and failed miserably. The channels he was on was now in Russian.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed the remote from him.
“Hey!”
“Honey, let me help you out.” She punched in the numbers that would put him where he needed to be. “Here.Now you can decide on what we are watching until your father is done talking with her.”
She couldn’t even say the woman’s name without scowling.
“Thanks, Mommy. I was just looking to see what was on.” He curled into her side and continued his search.
“Sure you were,” she muttered. She kissed his forehead.
Kian hummed to himself, happy in his own little world. Tachina placed her arm around him and absorbed the warmth of his small frame. This was what truly mattered. Her son’s happiness meant the world to her. She had finally settled down and felt comfortable again. She and Vic would work things out while spending time as a family with their son.
Her eyes kept drifting toward the hallway.
Her pulse thudded in her chest.
That woman in there with Vic was determined to ruin everything.
Now Tachina was filled with tension.
Fear.
The room suddenly felt too quiet.
What if Sydney was here to try to take Vic back?
The soft click of the office door sounded louder than it should have. Like a trapdoor sealing shut. Vic moved and flicked on the lights. His office looked the same as it always did with its dark wood paneling, sleek built-in bookshelves filled with textbooks, portfolios he’d collected, and a few framed photographs. Two leather wingback chairs sat across from his polished mahogany desk, and a large Persian rug muted their footsteps.
Tonight, the air felt tense enough to snap.
No sooner had he turned to face her than Sydney surged forward, arms outstretched and lips puckered up for a kiss. He caught her by her shoulders and shoved her back before her mouth even came close to his.
“What the hell are you doing?” he growled.
Sydney blinked, surprised, as if she had expected him to kiss her. She ran her hands over her wool skirt and tilted her chin upward.
“I came to see you.” Her lips curled up in a seductive manner.