Page 59

“Uncle James! Are we going to the zoo today?” they shout back, their mouths full of cereal.
“Sure are, kiddos.”
“Yesss!” Ollie pumps his fist in the air, his excitement contagious.
Chuckling, I head to the kitchen, where I hear the familiar clatter of mugs and dishes. “Hey, Lars—” I stop mid-sentence as I take in her appearance. Dark circles weigh down her eyes, her hair resembles a bird’s nest, and she’s still in pajamas. “Wow. You look like shit,” I say with a grin.
“Gee, thanks,” she replies dryly. “And you look”—she pauses with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth, eyes narrowing—“good, actually. More like… like you used to. Like him,” she adds softly. The comparison lands harder than it should, but I shrug it off.
She’s right, though. I’m not one to smile without reason, and today I can’t seem to help it.
Last night at the gala, Cora and I played our parts seamlessly, orbiting each other, tethered by that invisible pull we can’t seem to break. And afterward, when I texted asking her to stay with me tonight, she accepted without hesitation. Knowing I’ll see her again in a few short hours… yeah, it’s hard not to smile.
“Come on, spill,” Lars demands, pulling a mug from the cabinet. “What’s her name?”
I lean against the counter, smirking. “Cora.”
“And…?” she prods, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
I don’t want to get into the details. Telling my sister I met Cora at a brothel? Not happening. “What time do I need to have the kids back?” I ask, casually checking my watch.
“Nice dodge,” she says, handing me a coffee. “Not before five. Adam and I need a day to ourselves.”
“Message received.” I give her a mock salute. “Emma, Ollie! Shoes on, we’re leaving in five!”
***
The sun beats down as we make our way to the zoo’s reptile exhibit. Ollie is mesmerized, his breath fogging up the glass as he studies every snake and lizard. His fascination with the scaly creatures makes me chuckle. Emma, though patient, is clearly getting restless, but she doesn’t complain.
“Time for a break, kids,” I announce, patting my stomach. “Uncle James is starving.”
Ollie groans. “Oh, what? Already?”
“Yep, kiddo. Let’s grab some snacks and check out the rest of the zoo. If there’s time, we’ll swing back through the reptile house before we head home.”
“Okaaay,” Ollie whines, but follows along.
The kids race ahead, their energy boundless, as we follow the path to the café. They immediately press their faces and hands to the display case, ogling the cakes inside. There’s no chance they’re getting any of that sweet shit. I draw the line at being the fun uncle when it comes to food. Dealing with the fallout from a sugar high is above my paygrade.
I’m scanning the café for a free table when I spot a familiar figure.
Cora.
She’s sitting with a little boy who’s trying to stuff an entire donut into his mouth with both hands. She hasn’t noticed me yet, too focused on him. Casual in jeans and a low-cut T-shirt, she looks worlds away from the glamorous woman who owned the gala last night. And yet, just as stunning. I weave through the tables toward her, but as soon her eyes find mine, something shifts.
Her entire body goes rigid, like she’s been caught out. She stands so fast her chair topples over with a loud crash. The sound echoes through the café, making heads turn, but I hardly notice. My focus is on her pale face, her wide eyes.
“James,” she breathes, soft and shaky.
I stop in my tracks, her reaction completely throwing me. “Cora?”
Her hands fidget at her sides, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.
Something is wrong.
Before I can ask what’s going on, a small voice pipes up from beside her.
“Momma, what’s wrong?”