far gone that she didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late.
“What the—”
Her eyes flew open to find Marcus standing in the kitchen doorway, taking in the intimate scene with a look that Celeste knew she would never forget for as long as she lived.
By the time she and Grant sprang guiltily apart, Marcus’s shocked horror had morphed into a savage rage that launched him forward like a missile fired from a cannon. Snarling furiously, he took a hard swing at Grant that caught him squarely in the chest, knocking him backward.
“Marcus, no!” Celeste screamed, hopping down from the counter and landing awkwardly on her ankle.
“You son of a bitch!” Marcus shouted viciously at Grant as Celeste hobbled forward and tackled him around the waist. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Grant held up a restraining hand. “Now just hold on there—” Marcus lunged forward. “Don’t tell me—”
“Baby, please!” Celeste cried, wrestling her enraged son to the floor and clamping her legs around his, as if she were restraining a violent patient at the hospital.
She glanced up quickly at Grant. “Please go. I’ll take care of this.” He hesitated, looking concerned. “Let me help—”
“ JUST GO! ” she screamed at him.
He took one last glance at Marcus struggling in her arms, frowned deeply, then turned and strode out of the kitchen.
Marcus yelled after him, “You ever come back here and I’ll kill you!”
“Stop this!” Celeste pleaded desperately. “You don’t understand, baby. Just listen to me. Please .”
Tears sprang to Marcus’s eyes, and he let out a choked little sob that broke Celeste’s heart. And then suddenly, like a powerful storm wreaking a path of destruction before subsiding, he went limp in her arms.
And that was the moment Celeste realized that he would never be the same again. Her baby boy had lost his innocence.
And she was to blame.
“Darling, please,” she sobbed brokenly, rocking him back and forth in her arms. “Please try to understand. I didn’t remember that you had an early dismissal today. I never would have let you see me with Grant that way if I’d remembered!”
Marcus sniffled, then untangled himself from her and climbed slowly to his feet. She eyed him warily, as if he were a wild animal whose next move she was trying to anticipate.
He wouldn’t even look at her. “Does Dad know?” he asked in a raw whisper.
Celeste hesitated, tugging her robe protectively around her body. “I was going to tell him, Marcus. I swear .”
“Why?”
“Because he deserves to know—”
“NO!” he roared so loudly that she jumped. “I meant why’d you do it? Why, Ma ?”
Bitter, scalding tears streamed from Celeste’s eyes, blurring her son’s image.
“Marcus, there are so many things about your father and me that you don’t understand. We’ve been having problems—”
“So you brought another man in here?”
She shook her head quickly. “Darling, please listen to me. I’m your mother—” She broke off at the look of scathing contempt that filled his face. He stood over her with his small fists balled at his sides. Half man. Half wounded boy.
Looking her in the eye, he said coldly, “I don’t have a mother anymore.” Celeste died a thousand deaths. As an anguished sob welled in her throat, she burst out hysterically, “You don’t mean that! Please, baby—” She tried to launch herself at his legs, but he pivoted sharply on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen. As she scrambled to her feet, her ankle screamed in protest. Ignoring the sharp pain, she stumbled after Marcus. But by the time she reached the living room, he’d already stormed out the front door, slamming it so hard that the family portraits on the wall rattled and crashed to the floor.
Sidestepping broken shards of glass, Celeste hurried to the door, flung it open, and limped onto the porch.
“ Marcus! ” she
“What the—”
Her eyes flew open to find Marcus standing in the kitchen doorway, taking in the intimate scene with a look that Celeste knew she would never forget for as long as she lived.
By the time she and Grant sprang guiltily apart, Marcus’s shocked horror had morphed into a savage rage that launched him forward like a missile fired from a cannon. Snarling furiously, he took a hard swing at Grant that caught him squarely in the chest, knocking him backward.
“Marcus, no!” Celeste screamed, hopping down from the counter and landing awkwardly on her ankle.
“You son of a bitch!” Marcus shouted viciously at Grant as Celeste hobbled forward and tackled him around the waist. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Grant held up a restraining hand. “Now just hold on there—” Marcus lunged forward. “Don’t tell me—”
“Baby, please!” Celeste cried, wrestling her enraged son to the floor and clamping her legs around his, as if she were restraining a violent patient at the hospital.
She glanced up quickly at Grant. “Please go. I’ll take care of this.” He hesitated, looking concerned. “Let me help—”
“ JUST GO! ” she screamed at him.
He took one last glance at Marcus struggling in her arms, frowned deeply, then turned and strode out of the kitchen.
Marcus yelled after him, “You ever come back here and I’ll kill you!”
“Stop this!” Celeste pleaded desperately. “You don’t understand, baby. Just listen to me. Please .”
Tears sprang to Marcus’s eyes, and he let out a choked little sob that broke Celeste’s heart. And then suddenly, like a powerful storm wreaking a path of destruction before subsiding, he went limp in her arms.
And that was the moment Celeste realized that he would never be the same again. Her baby boy had lost his innocence.
And she was to blame.
“Darling, please,” she sobbed brokenly, rocking him back and forth in her arms. “Please try to understand. I didn’t remember that you had an early dismissal today. I never would have let you see me with Grant that way if I’d remembered!”
Marcus sniffled, then untangled himself from her and climbed slowly to his feet. She eyed him warily, as if he were a wild animal whose next move she was trying to anticipate.
He wouldn’t even look at her. “Does Dad know?” he asked in a raw whisper.
Celeste hesitated, tugging her robe protectively around her body. “I was going to tell him, Marcus. I swear .”
“Why?”
“Because he deserves to know—”
“NO!” he roared so loudly that she jumped. “I meant why’d you do it? Why, Ma ?”
Bitter, scalding tears streamed from Celeste’s eyes, blurring her son’s image.
“Marcus, there are so many things about your father and me that you don’t understand. We’ve been having problems—”
“So you brought another man in here?”
She shook her head quickly. “Darling, please listen to me. I’m your mother—” She broke off at the look of scathing contempt that filled his face. He stood over her with his small fists balled at his sides. Half man. Half wounded boy.
Looking her in the eye, he said coldly, “I don’t have a mother anymore.” Celeste died a thousand deaths. As an anguished sob welled in her throat, she burst out hysterically, “You don’t mean that! Please, baby—” She tried to launch herself at his legs, but he pivoted sharply on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen. As she scrambled to her feet, her ankle screamed in protest. Ignoring the sharp pain, she stumbled after Marcus. But by the time she reached the living room, he’d already stormed out the front door, slamming it so hard that the family portraits on the wall rattled and crashed to the floor.
Sidestepping broken shards of glass, Celeste hurried to the door, flung it open, and limped onto the porch.
“ Marcus! ” she
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