Page 171 of When Love Takes Root

Josiah looked at me, then let his gaze return to Kayden. “I’m a guest in her home, Kayden. I’m going to respect what she allows and what she corrects.”

Kayden’s eyes sharpened. “You don’t have to play backup. She’s been handling us before you got here.”

JJ’s jaw hardened.

Josiah didn’t flinch. “I know. That’s why I’m following her lead.”

“Then act like it.”

My hand hit the table. “Enough!”

Skye flinched.

My heart cracked at the sight, but I kept my eyes on Kayden.

He stared back at me, hurt and defiance fighting over his face.

I pointed toward the staircase. “I’ve corrected you more than once. You’ve insulted a guest in my home, embarrassed your sister after she told me something serious, and kept pushing after I told you to stop.” His eyes reddened. “Get up.”

His mouth parted. “Ma.”

“Get up from my table. Now.” His chair scraped back. He pulled himself to his feet, slow enough to look controlled and stiff enough to prove he wasn’t. For one second, all that height and hurt stood there in front of me, his eyes too wet for the attitude he was trying to keep. Then he turned and walked out of the dining room, each step heavy enough to bruise the stairs.

No one spoke.

My cheeks burned.

I reached for my napkin, folded it, unfolded it, then set it beside my plate like linen could help me gather myself.

Josiah’s voice came low. “Celeste.”

I looked at him, and the compassion on his face nearly broke me.

I could’ve handled irritation. Offense. A sharp look. Him deciding my house was too much, my son was too rude, my life had too many doors grief kept slamming. But he looked at me like he saw all of it and didn’t plan to make me ashamed.

That was worse.

A woman could defend herself against judgment.

Tenderness slipped through smaller cracks.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being a mother.”

“I’m apologizing because you came here as my guest.”

“I know where I am.”

The way he said it made my throat ache.

Dinner limped forward. Skye’s earlier sparkle dimmed, her fork dragging through rice in small circles. Zuri offered Josiah a roll with both hands like it was a peace treaty, her beads clicking against her cheek when she leaned toward him. Maya asked one more question about wall outlets, probably because guilt sat too heavy on her little chest. JJ watched the staircase with a look I didn’t like. Every few seconds, my eyes went to Kayden’s empty chair, pulled crooked from the table like an accusation.

Josiah remained gracious.

That made it worse.

If he’d been offended, I could’ve used that. If he’d snapped back, I could’ve built a wall from it. If he’d looked at my children like they were too much, I could’ve pushed him out and called it discernment.