9
Gabrielle
For helvete.
Colt had trusted me with his home and his child, and I’d messed everything up. Kiki giggled hysterically as I wafted the smoke with a tea towel.
“It smells so bad.”
“Yes, yes, I know that.”
“You’re not very good at cooking.”
“No, I’m really not.”
The back door was open, the windows were open, and still the house smelled like burned plastic. Kiki coughed again. The pizza was ruined, the fries were still frozen, and Colt had called me on the landline when he left work. If my estimate was correct, he’d be back at any moment.
Ah, there was his truck now.
Every time things seemed to be going a little better, life fell apart. In the great scheme of things, ruining dinner wasn’t a disaster, but on top of all the other things that had happened this week… I sniffe
