I may regret this decision in the future. He may want to hurt me because of what he knows, because of what I did to him.
But I can’t find it within me to care.
Karsyn drives me to a cute, suburban, three-story farmhouse. I only have enough time to see fresh yellow paint, a perfectly manicured lawn, and a bike near the front entrance before Karsyn pulls me inside. I shake wildly, the frigid air causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin and numb my fingers.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” Karsyn bellows. He kicks off his shoes and rips off his wet jacket. He then reaches for me and helps me remove mine as well. I take my shoes off much more gingerly than he did, hating that my sodden clothes leave a puddle in their foyer.
Before his parents can respond, a small dog comes barreling around the corner, yipping like crazy. Her fur is a colorful combination of red, brown, black, and white. A single pink bow rests on her head, and she wears a bedazzled collar.
“Yorkie?” I question as the playful dog runs through Karsyn’s legs.
“Honey Pot,” he tells me before bending down and scratching behind her ears.
“Kar? Is that Mari?” A woman comes from around the corner, wiping her hands on a yellow rag. She pauses when she catches sight of me, her green-brown eyes, almost an exact replica of Karsyn’s, widening. “Oh. Who is this?” A wide smile blossoms on her face as she hurries forward, hand extended.
“Peony,” I introduce, staring at the woman with stunning golden hair, a dimpled grin, and rosy red cheeks. I can see the resemblance between the two of them immediately. “You must be Mrs. Alder.”
“Please. Call me Charlotte.” Still gripping my hand, she turns her head to call out, “Michael! Come here!”
An older gentleman with a protruding stomach, sandy-blond hair peppered with white, and a smiling face exits the kitchen a moment later. He, too, pauses when he sees me before a mischievous smile splits open his face. My eyes drift down to the faded State sweatshirt he wears, and an awkward, uncomfortable pang shoots through me. I don’t know if it’s guilt, regret, satisfaction, or a combination of all three. Hell, I can’t even tell if my desires still center around my revenge, or if I’m ready to move on with my life.
I’ll look into all of that at a later date.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Is this the ‘Peony’ you always talked about?” His wife releases me as he steps forward, tenderly taking my hand in both of his and giving it a shake. “I’m Michael.” The sly dog then turns towards Karsyn and winks. “She’s pretty.”
“I know,” Karsyn grumbles, color rising to his cheeks as he stares at the ground.
“Can I get you two anything to eat? A hot chocolate? You must be freezing,” his mother croons, flitting between the two of us. I bite my lip to keep from smirking when Karsyn’s blush deepens.
“I’m actually going to take Peony upstairs to shower,” he tells them, and I watch as Charlotte and Michael exchange conspiratorial looks.
“Shower. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Michael whispers to her in an overly dramatic, horrified stage-whisper. “Dad!” Karsyn huffs, and Honey Pot begins to bark.
“Ignore him,” Charlotte tells me with an eye roll. “We all do.” To her husband, she says, “Let’s leave the kids alone. I want a rematch.”
“A rematch?” Karsyn questions, amusement lacing his tone.
This time, Michael’s the one to roll his eyes as he scoops down to pick up Honey Pot. It’s almost comical to see such a large man hold such a delicate, feminine dog. “She’s pissed because I beat her ass at Mario Kart five times in a row.”
“And your record ends now,” Charlotte deadpans. “Because the only ass getting beat is yours. With a flogger.”
“Oh my god.” Karsyn looks as if he wishes the ground will open up and swallow him whole. “I’ll never be able to show my face again.”
“Nah. If what you told me is true, then this one is a keeper.” Michael nudges his son with a shit-eating smirk. “By the way, she’s even prettier in person.”
“Actually…” Charlotte grins up at her husband. “How about we take a long, long walk and leave the two of them alone?”
“Yes, let’s leave them alone for their ‘shower,’” Michael agrees, making air quotes with his fingers.
“Just go.” Karsyn all but shoves his giggling parents out