I stared at the man who had once carried himself like he owned the world. Now he was on his knees in front of me, looking like a beaten, kicked-to-the-curb stray dog, snot and tears streaming down his face as he babbled apologies and empty promises.
I felt no flicker of emotion in my chest at the sight, only a cold, absurd amusement.
I sauntered slowly over to him, gazing down at him like he was nothing more than a bug under my shoe.
"Jonathan." My voice was soft, but it cut through the air like a knife. "Arranging a proper burial for my parents? You don't even get to say their names. And us having another kid?"
I paused for a beat, letting the words hang.
"Do you really think, after everything you've done, I'd ever let you lay a single finger on me again? You killed my baby, hounded
