Page 72 of The Wedding Planner's Manny

Rhys.

He was staying over so much lately that I kind of missed him on the rare occasions I woke up to an empty bed now. But he'd gone home last night and I couldn't blame him for that. I would have been overwhelmed in his place too.

“At least Caleb doesn't think the way you do,” Laura muttered. “My little boy was very happy to see me this morning.”

“Only because he doesn't know better. He has no idea you're just going to break his heart again. And just so you know, when you do, I'm going to kill you.”

“You're really not a morning person, are you?” She huffed. “I'll leave you alone with your breakfast.

Maybe you'll be more reasonable when you have some food in your stomach.”

I scoffed at her, but she only turned around and left.

If only she'd leave the house altogether.

I ignored the pancakes, but took a sip of the coffee. The moment the hot liquid hit my taste buds, I grimaced. She'd ruined it with too much sugar. How was it that we'd been married for over a decade and she still couldn't remember how I took my coffee? It had taken Rhys less than a day to learn.

Trying to shake the sleep from my mind, I got out of bed. It might have been a Sunday, but I still had a lot to do.

First of all, I needed to talk to my son. Nathan had taken my suggestion to lock himself in his room yesterday to heart. But he hadn't come out again. Not even when I asked him to later that evening. For all I knew, he hadn't had anything to eat, either.

I took the mug of coffee from the tray with my breakfast and tossed the contents in the sink of the ensuite bathroom. Then I filled the mug with water, put it back on the tray and carried it to Nathan's room.

“Hey, kiddo, will you let me in?” I asked, knocking. I could hear that he was up by the shuffling of feet on the other side of the door. “I'm bringing breakfast,” I added to help him in his decision.

“Pancakes. They're still warm.” At least I thought they were, anyway.

Cautiously, Nathan opened the door a crack. “It's just you?”

“Just me.”

“Okay.” Nathan let me in and locked the door behind me as soon as I'd entered. He wasn't in his pajamas anymore and I wondered whether he'd been preparing to sneak out the window and climb down the tree into the yard. It wouldn't have been the first time. He used to drive our nannies crazy, doing that.

I set the tray with breakfast down on his desk. “Dig in.”

Nathan grabbed the water and gulped it down greedily.

“I'll bring you up a bottle later.”

Surprise painted my son's features. “You're not forcing me to come down?”

“As long as your mother is here? No. I won'tmakeyou talk to her. Not after what she did.”

“Oh wow. Really?”

“You might consider talking to her for your own reasons, though,” I added.

Nathan's expression grew suspicious. “Why would I do that?”

“Don't you think it might feel good to tell her exactly what you think of her?”

“Can't she tell from the way I can't stand to be in the same room as her?” Nathan walked over to his terrariums, looking at the salamander lazing around in the far right corner instead of me.

Oh, to live the lazy life of a pet salamander who could do no wrong in the eyes of my son.

“You might have to spell it out for her.”

Nathan made a face. “I don't even want to be in the same town as her.”