Craving The Wrong Brother (Sloane and Knox) novel Chapter 133

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~~SLOANE~~

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My father is just as bullheaded as most of the men I know.

He decides not to heed my warning and stands there like some old-school martyr, arms crossed, face calm in that way he thinks makes him unreadable. It doesn’t. He’s waiting for the storm that’s about to come through the front door in the form of his wife, Daphne.

The door opens, and Daphne walks in with Beau.

The first person she lays eyes on is Grandma June, curled into the couch with a half-finished glass of wine in one hand and the TV remote in the other.

“You’re back,” Grandma says with a slow turn of the head as Daphne kicks the door shut behind her and sets her bag down.

“Yeah. Couldn’t stand being around my family any longer. Decided to come home.” She looks down at her son and nods. “Beau, go say hi to Grandma.”

The boy hesitates. He’s got one finger lodged in his nostril, and from the way he shifts his weight from foot to foot, he’d rather be anywhere else. But Daphne nudges him, and he reluctantly starts walking toward Grandma June.

Even as I watch this unfold, I can feel the tension rising. Daphne hasn’t looked our way yet. She knows we’re here. I know she does. Her neck is stiff, like she’s avoiding turning toward us. My father hasn’t moved either. He’s standing a few feet from me, hands now shoved into his pockets, bracing himself.

Then Daphne finally does it. She turns. Her eyes find mine first.

“Sloane,” she says. “You’re here. Is it two months already?”

I smile, realizing she’s talking about the two-month rhythm I’ve stuck to for years now, the one where I alternate between my parents to pay a visit. One month with Dad. The next with Mom. A habit that started as convenience and slowly turned into a rule.

“Something came up,” I reply.

Her gaze moves to my father, and I see it—the moment her expression hardens again. She isn’t ready to deal with him. Not yet.

“Great,” she says instead. “I hope it’s not anything serious. Because I saw a strange car parked out there with some mean-looking men. Should I be worried?”

“Those are just Sloane’s friends,” my dad says, his voice soft in a way I haven’t heard in a long time. Daphne's eyes find his again, and they stare at each other across the room.

I take that as my cue to exit.

I start inching toward the stairs, giving Grandma a look that says, ‘Let’s give them some privacy.’ She ignores me. Typical. Beau is already on her lap, one sneaker dangling halfway off his foot, and she’s patting his back while making him watch the fashion show with her.

“Grandma,” I say out loud.

She rolls her eyes but sets the kid down. “Alright, alright.” She pats Beau on the back. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s go change out of those large shoes your mother has you suffocating in.”

I wait for them at the foot of the stairs. Grandma’s taking her sweet time with Beau, even though she knows exactly what I’m trying to do. Beau shuffles along beside her, dragging his feet with his tiny hand clutching her robe, and he keeps glancing down at his shoes.

When they reach me, I give Grandma a pointed look. Then I start up the stairs.

Behind me, I hear my father say, “I’m going to get your bag,” and Daphne’s voice answering, “Not yet. Let’s talk.”

At least they’re talking. It’s the only silver lining I can hold onto. I hear Grandma coaxing Beau behind me like he’s navigating Everest instead of a flight of stairs.

“One foot up the stairs, buddy. Great. That’s it. Now the other one.”

My mind's spiraling.

How the hell am I supposed to get my mother out of this house without Daphne noticing?

The window?

Oh God. Am I seriously considering asking my post-miscarriage, emotionally damaged mother to climb out of a window?

Yes. Yes, I am.

Even if I did manage to get her out without a scene, where would I take her? And where's Serena? Why the hell is her phone still switched off?