Standing off to the side, I was honestly enjoying the scene.
Still, I felt Lewis had been a little too polite.
I crossed my arms and looked straight at Monica.
"Aunt Monica, you've got some nerve. First you stole my mother's mate, and now you're eyeing her son-in-law too? What's wrong with you? Can't you find your own man?"
"I didn't " Monica's voice shook. "I may not have a formal bond with your father, but I truly love him!"
She turned toward Grant with teary eyes, looking wrong and stiff all at once.
Maybe she once had charm. Now, years of fixing and reshaping had frozen her face. Her attempt at crying looked unnatural like something carved, not felt.
I tilted my head.
"Dad, how do you live with that face every day? She looks like one of those wax figures where you can't tell if they're smiling or mourning."
Grant flinched.
By now, he knew exactly where the power sat.
