Iris
I must look like a wreck as I stare at the three tickets in Arthur''s hand, my mouth
hanging open and the front of my shirt sttered with pancake batter, but I don''t care. I''m trying to figure out what Arthur''s angle is.
After everything that I said to him yesterday, why would he show up here? And why would he try to take us out to the amusement park, of all things?
But before I can answer, Miles whirls to face me and grins, his lips and cheeks stained purple from the blueberries he was just
eating.
"Can we, Mommy?" he pleads, sping his hands together. "Oh, please, can we go?"
I''m not sure what to say. It''s almost impossible for me to tell Miles ''no'' under normal circumstances, and considering the fact that he was so upset during our weeks apart, I want nothing more than to give him the best time while we''re settling in here.
Plus, with Arthur staring at us, no doubt judging every little thing I do, it''s even harder to deny Miles.
denuru
Finally, my shoulders slump with defeat. I want to tell Arthur to piss off and leave us alone, but I just can''t bring myself to do it. Not with Miles looking so hopeful. "Alright," I say with a soft sigh. "Eat your breakfast, and then we''ll go."
Miles cheers, excitedly running back to his seat. I shake my head and turn around, flipping the pancake in the pan.
I can sense Arthur still standing behind me, lingering in the doorway. I almost consider letting him stand there awkwardly while we eat our breakfast, just to spite him, but even that is more cruel than I''d feelfortable with.
"Come in," I call over my shoulder without looking at him. "There aren''t enough pancakes, but you can help yourself to some
coffee if you want."
I''ll let hime in briefly, but I''m certainly not going to serve him.
"I''m good, thanks," Arthur says, clearing his throat. He shuts the door behind him and hesitates in the entryway. When I finally te the pancakes and turn around, I find him still standing there, looking around at our apartment.
"Not the hovel you expected, is it?" I bite out as I ce the te down in front of Miles, scooping a dollop of homemade whipped
cream on top.
Arthur''s jaw ticks, but he calmly replies, "I never expected a hovel."
Right, I think bitterly. Fat chance of that
Still, I keep my expression neutral, leaving Miles to eat his breakfast while I make my way toward my bedroom. I can''t exactly go out wearing pajama pants and a shirt with pancake batter on it, so I slip away to get changed.
+20 Bonus
As I rifle through my closet, picking out a suitable outfit for the warm weather we''ll be having today, I curse myself inwardly for
caving so easily. I was proud of myself for refusing Arthur''s offers before, for sticking to my guns.
And yet here I am, folding at the first sign of him actually trying to be a halfway decent father.
However, I push the thought away, picking out afortable floral sundress and a pair of t shoes. After dressing, I wash my face in the adjoined bathroom, throw on some mascara and lipstick, thenb my hair into loose waves and take onest look in
the mirror.
Much better. Although I hate the way my heart flutters ever so slightly, as if a part of me actually gives a shit how I look in front of
Arthur.
When I emerge from the bedroom, Miles has already finished his breakfast and I can hear him getting dressed in his own room Arthur is standing in the hallway, his head tilted back, staring up at arge painting that''s hanging on the wall.
I hesitate in the bedroom doorway, allowing myself a brief moment to take him in.
His expression is... thoughtful. There''s something softer about his face, something more contemtive.
And for a moment, he almost looks like the man I once loved.
Almost.
Arthur nces at me then, and something flickers in his gaze that makes my heart skip a beat. Briefly, he drags his gaze across my outfit, lingering first on the soft blue of my dress, then my bare legs, then my lo