Page 94 of The Lilac River

Add in the chill from being caught in the rain and, well, I was barely hanging on. My skin still felt raw from the cold and the heat of his touch, overlapping like bruises I couldn’t see.

Thank God Mom and Grandma had gone to visit one of Grandma’s friends back in Burlington for a few days. It meant I could go straight to my room, turn off the lights, and cry into my pillow without having to explain that I’d had sex with Nash—twice—and he regretted it.

Every time I thought about it, my heart hammered painfully, pulsing in time with the throb still lingering between my legs. It had been everything I remembered and more. Nash was moreconfident now, instinctively knowing what I needed and giving it without hesitation.

I’d loved every desperate, aching second of it and yet doubt had crept in. I’d barely stopped myself from asking for reassurance.

Thank God I hadn’t.

He’d made it clear soon enough. It had been a mistake.

I wished I could erase it from my mind, but the memories clung to me like a second skin. So instead, I shoved them aside and threw myself into today's lesson: Family Trees. I could handle that. I could stay in the lines, keep it structured.

We’d talked a lot about different types of families. Some of my kids had two dads, some lived with step-parents, some didn’t know one of their parents.

It was a beautiful, messy patchwork and for once, no one thought any of it was strange.

Thank goodness those days were gone where you were seen as ‘weird’ if your mom and dad didn’t live together, or God forbid you were from a single parent family.

I’d experienced those whispers and anxiety when it was the Daddy/Daughter dance at school. I still remembered the sinking feeling in my stomach when I had no one to take me.

This school and these kids were so much more forward-thinking, so it was a lesson I was enjoying giving.

"Miss. Gray."

A small hand tugged at my sleeve.

I turned and found Bertie, looking unusually serious. Her little brows were drawn together in frustration, and her ponytail was starting to come loose.

"Hey, Bertie. What’s up?"

She frowned, bottom lip sticking out. "I wanted to put my grandma on my family tree, but Macey said I can’t because she’s dead."

I crouched to her level and smoothed a hand over her hair. "Of course you can. Families include everyone, even the ones we can’t see anymore."

Bertie shot a withering glare across the room, her tiny hands going to her hips. I bit back a smile.

"I knew it," she declared. "And I know who my mom is. Daddy told me. But I’m not putting her on there."

"You can if you want to. It’s your tree."

She shook her head fiercely. "Nuh-uh. She gave up rental rights to Daddy."

"Parental," I corrected gently.

"Yep, that’s what I said. Daddy told me I never have to worry about her coming to take me away. That’s why she’s not on my tree."

My heart twisted. I knew exactly how scared she must have been. My biggest worry as a child had been that my dad would come back and make me live with him. And I was a teenager who knew he was in prison for life, so imagine what her little mind must have been going through.

"You add whoever you want, sweetheart," I said. "And if you want to put Felicia and Shane on there, too, that’s perfect."

Bertie leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. "I wish you were my mom," she whispered. "But don’t tell the others. They’ll think I’m silly."

Tears burned my eyes. God, I loved this little girl.

"I won’t tell," I promised.

She opened her mouth to say something else, hesitated, then leaned in again.