“I will.” Jace also left the hallway light on and returned to the kitchen, where Cindy had washed the ice cream bowls and spoons and set the table for breakfast. He went to her, put his arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for the help.”
“No problem. Let’s go make the bed so we can get some sleep.”
They worked together to change the sheets on the bed in the main bedroom and then put on the pajama pants and T-shirts they’d brought from home.
“I guess this means sleeping naked is out of the question for the time being,” he said.
“You guess correctly.”
“You’re no fun at all,” he said, affecting a pout that made her laugh.
“You know I’m lots of fun, but not with two kids sleeping nearby.”
“Is this why people refer to their kids as cockblockers?”
“I believe it is.”
“Not that I would ever say that about my sons.”
Cindy laughed. “Of course you wouldn’t.”
“I’m just going to check on them one more time. Be right back.” Jace tiptoed to the doorway to the boys’ room, which Seamus had told him had been part of the addition they put on to make room for the kids in their home. They’d also added a deluxe playroom and the bathroom the boys shared. He’d expected to hear whispering, but they were quiet, so he returned to the main bedroom.
“Are they out?”
“Seems like they might be.”
“See? That wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Not bad at all. They made it easy—and you did, too.”
She held out her arms to him, and he snuggled up to her like he’d been doing that for much longer than a day. He was so comfortable with her that he felt like he’d known her forever.
As he relaxed into her warm embrace, he released a deep breath for the first time in hours. “They’re seven and eight years old, and that was the first time I’ve ever tucked them into bed that they’ll remember. I’m so ashamed of that.”
“They’ll remember the times you were there, not the times you weren’t.”
“I know, but I still feel sick to think about what I missed, what they missed, what Lisa went through on her own. So many regrets.”
“Maybe you should see the regrets as a blessing of sorts.”
“How do you figure?”
“If you didn’t have regrets, then that would mean you didn’t learn anything from everything that happened. You’ve learned so much and traveled a million miles from who you were when it all went wrong. The regret means you’ve grown.”
“I’m not sure how you manage to spin it in a way that makes so much sense, but that’s a nice way to look at it.”
“Just a suggestion.”
“It’s a good one. Do you have regrets?”
“Only one.”
He waited to see if she’d share it with him.
“It’s the same one we all have. We wish we’d told the truth about what went on in our home back when it could’ve made a difference for us and our mom. We wish we hadn’t been so frightened by his threats that we kept silent when we should’ve been telling everyone who’d listen.”
“That doesn’t really count as a regret, because you did what you thought was right to stay safe—and to keep your mother safe,” Jace said.