“You’re not. You’ve been fantastic with Mom.”
If he only knew. He couldn’t defend his assertion without going into specifics, though, and as much as he was beginning to really like Thomas, that could never happen.
His hand rested on top of the pad, motionless as he debated how to respond. After a moment, Thomas reached for his wrist and lifted Andre’s hand away. It took him a beat to realize he’d set the one he’d cut on full view, but he held still as Thomas turned the palm toward him, tracing the now-invisible line where the glass had slashed him.
“I still think this is unbelievable. There so was much blood, and now…“