The Promise (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 2) by Bethany-Kris (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

but left him confused, too. He couldn’t understand what his mother had to be proud of where he was concerned.

“She’s also here because I fucked up again,” he told Claire.

Because even if she didn’t know those details—she hadn’t said one way or another—he did, and that was enough.

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit, baby,” his mother replied with a soft pat of her palm against his cheek.

He couldn’t remember the last time she’d called him that, and his chuckle hid the choked edge to his words when he said, “Been a long time since I was a baby, Ma.”

Claire didn’t miss a beat. “You’re always my baby.”

Right.

Moms were moms.

“Yes,” she added after a moment, giving him a nod, “you’ve taken on more than you can chew, or rather, more than you’re used to, but it’s one bite at a time, Roman. That’s how you eat an elephant. A single bite at a time.”

If only that analogy applied.

“Except I’m not dealing with the same kind of shit I’m used to here.”

“If there’s anyone who can bring that girl out of her dark place—it’s you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She trusts you. God, she looks for you even when you’re in the same room. That is huge for someone with a complex sense of self like she must have. To find someone they can trust completely, think about it.”

Roman did.

He didn’t want to, though. Self-doubt was a real thing, and he’d been battling it more often than not lately. He wasn’t proud of that.

Their gazes drifted to the kitchen window over the sink as Karine and Michelle came into view. The two women walked the trail that weaved throughout the dense trees at the rear of the property. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but the way she walked with her shoulders loose and her hands gesturing at the leaves above, he knew she was okay.

Christ.

He wished that helped his heart, or the worry still drumming deep. Here he was worrying about Karine’s reaction when he left, but how was he supposed to deal with it if this was how he felt when she was just outside?

“Your father was right,” his mother said, breaking through his thoughts again. “She’s just ... she seems so fragile.”

He said nothing to that, he knew better. Karine was much stronger than she appeared, even if she was breakable, too. He’d learned that on his own, and he honestly believed it was better for others to do the same. They’d have a better respect for Karine, fragile or not.

“Thank you for doing this, Ma,” he said instead. “For being here.”

Claire gently brushed her fingers on her son’s cheek, and he pulled her in for a hug. He’d stolen a quick one earlier, but this was different. Longer. Tighter, with her hand sweeping his back like she’d done so many times before. Fuck, he’d missed his ma. So much.

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of his mother’s head.

While she drummed her fingers affectionately on his chest, she told him, “You know I would do anything for you, Roman. You’re mine. I love you. That’s what people who love us do.”

• • •

His mother left him in the kitchen, saying she wanted to have a bath and call Demyan. He’d rolled his eyes at that—remarking at how they were going to spend hours talking on the phone just because they would be apart for a while.

“I’m sure you’re starting to understand it yourself. As they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Claire had replied, giving her son a happy wink as she left.

And that, in a nutshell, was his mother.

Roman cracked open a can of beer from the fridge and made his way to the front porch, knowing good and damn well he’d opened up too much to his mother maybe. It wasn’t like he screamed share the feelings, but then again, she could read him like a book. He didn’t really regret what he told her, not when he needed someone to listen.

The front veranda was his favorite part of the house. It overlooked a hill on one side, and the lake waiting at the very bottom.

He had spent hours here, drinking with his grandfather, toughening his liver, Anton once told him, when he was a teenager. Just the thought of Anton made him want to speak to the man. His grandfather would have all the answers, or at the very least, he’d say what Roman needed to hear.

He made a mental note to call him soon, just as Karine and Michelle appeared at the bottom of the hill. They’d taken the trail down and around fast.

He noticed, then, so fucking aware of how his heart always seemed to quicken every time Karine came into view. Michelle was already walking away, headed towards the other end of the large lodge where she was being housed. He’d given her the option of using the smaller property across the lake, but she opted to be in-house with Karine to get as much time in with her as possible.

Karine looked to be in a better mood now—she smiled with a wave at him from the bottom of the hill. He considered going down the path and meeting her halfway, but he wanted to watch her walking towards him. Wanted to focus on the way her hips swayed sensually in that flowy yellow dress she was wearing. Even the way the gray shawl she’d taken outside draped the delicate line of her shoulders. Or how her hair blew in soft waves behind her from the cool breeze.

He could get used to this.

Watching Karine.

From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the bulls at the front of the house, tucked off to the side near a bush. The guy had been on the phone, but now he was putting it away and walking towards Roman, too.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled under his breath.

What next?

Just when he was settling