The Man From Her Past
“Van, are you saving that bag?”He pushed it into the bin and got himself under control. Ridiculous that a little girl could do this to him. But it was what she stood for—those hellish images he had never escaped.“No.” He choked as his throat tightened. “I’m not saving it.”He turned. Cassie was waiting, still watchful.“What did you bring?” Cassie asked with a hand toward the cartons.“Antipasto, spaghetti, tiramisu for Hope and me and crème brûlée for you.”“I smell the spaghetts.” Hope’s nose quiv...ered like a kitten’s. “And look at the salad, Mommy.” She prodded the one see-through package. “Can I have your cootons?”“Croutons.” Her voice was absent. “Spaghetts are Hope’s favorites.”There was more in her tone. An extra warning. She looked at her daughter with her heart literally in her eyes and more love than Van suspected she’d ever felt for him. Hope owned that much of her. Cassie would fight with her last breath to keep her little girl safe.Even from him.MoreLess
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