Page 172 of What Comes Around

I huffed a laugh against his chest.

“Super mighty,” he added with a crooked grin. “Clearly impossible to contain.”

Then he squeezed me once more and sighed.

“I’ll book another vasectomy.”

And that is how I ended up pregnant again at thirty‑eight. Knox was fifty. Not that he looked it. He still kept himself in shape, broad shoulders and strong arms, though there was more gray in his hair now and in the scruff along his jaw.

If anything, the gray was working very much in his favor.

I definitely wasn’t complaining.

A few months later, life in our house was shifting all over again. Evan was turning nineteen in a few days, getting ready for college, and apparently that meant a weekend camping trip with his friends, because nothing said responsible young adulthood like a group of teenage boys disappearing into the woods.

“Mom,” Amelia’s voice called from the hallway.

I looked up just as my ten year old appeared in the doorway, her hair half falling out of a messy braid.

“Evan’s friends are here.”

I followed Amelia downstairs, and she came out with me onto the driveway, hovering quietly at my side. Just as we stepped outside, Evan was lifting a duffel bag into the back of a car already packed with backpacks, coolers, and far too much energy.

For a second I just stood there watching him.

It still caught me off guard sometimes how big he had gotten. Somewhere along the way, the skinny eight year old boy I had taken in had turned into a six foot four giant with broad shoulders, messy dark hair, and a face that still held traces of the child he used to be.

A child who had lost his mother.

And part of me would always wonder if that was my fault.

When Marissa was convicted for Elena’s murder, the guilt had settled in quietly but permanently. I had sent those messages about the affair, planted the idea, made sure she felt replaced. I never named Elena, but it hadn’t mattered in the end.

If I hadn’t interfered…

Maybe Elena would still be alive.

There was no way to undo it. No way to know.

“Mom.”

Evan’s voice pulled me back. He had straightened and was looking at me now, smiling. “We’re ready.”

My heart did that small, stupid squeeze it always did when he said it.

He came over and hugged me, then climbed into the front passenger seat. I leaned in through the open window, looking each of the boys in the eyes.

“Boys, pay attention. This weekend’s safety briefing.”

Evan groaned. “Mom…”

I held up a finger. “Number one. Do not add to the population.”

One of them coughed awkwardly.

Two fingers. “Number two. Do not subtract from the population.”

The front door opened behind me and Knox stepped out, sleeves rolled, coffee in hand. Beside him trailed our seven year old son, Noah. Knox joined me and nodded at the boys in greeting.