Dirty Flowers – The Lion and the Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 148949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
<<<<73839192939495103113>147
Advertisement


The sound of our footsteps echoed.

My mind raced with thoughts of how I would tell Paolo, and even. . .how I would comfort him.

A few times, Emily glanced my way. I knew she worried for me, just as I stressed over her.

This will be one of the hardest things I will ever do.

When we reached his room, his guards stepped aside.

Emily tightened her hold on me. “Baby, I can do it. Turn around.”

“No.” I led her in and was immediately struck by the vibrant shades of green that seemed to adorn every surface of his space.

I’d never spent time in his room, trying my best to somehow. . .avoid and ignore Paolo, yet still live with him.

Now I could not avoid him or this space in our house anymore.

Paolo had his back to us as he played in the middle of the room. He wore a stylish deep, forest green suit, perfectly tailored to fit his tiny frame. Polished brown leather shoes covered his feet. Toys surrounded him—a fuzzy green frog, miniature cars of various colors, and wooden blocks stacked like buildings.

The lights were off due to all the windows being open and letting the sunlight in.

Yet, the sun was lowering as we stood in there.

And the darkness would come.

“Vroooommm.” Paolo pushed a green car along the blocks and smashed it into the frog. “Bye bye, monster.”

With his other hand, he knocked the blocks down and giggled to himself. “No more.”

Watching him, Emily hugged herself.

I took in the rest of his room, delaying the inevitable.

I remembered when I bought the house, my mouse had spent weeks worrying about what she would do with his bedroom. Paolo had spouted out tons of things that he loved and somehow, she had put them all together.

Good job, mysh.

Fascinating murals adorned every wall, depicting animals in a lush jungle setting. Monkeys dangled on branches. Birds flew through the air. On the wall near me, a lion prowled and a mouse rode his back.

A sad smile spread on my face.

I should have come in here before.

I looked to the right.

Small bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with books and toys. A tiny teepee rested near it. One picture book was open inside of it, telling me that Paolo must have enjoyed gazing at the pictures inside of the teepee.

Pavel, do you like his room for your son?

Slowly, I walked over to the teepee and set the wooden chest next to it.

That got Paolo’s attention.

“Mysh!” He rose from the floor, rushed over to Emily, and hugged her legs.

“Hey, baby.” She lowered and embraced him.

He tugged at her shirt. “Emeeo, play with me?”

“No, baby. Emilio is sleeping right now, but soon.”

“Oh.” He turned my way. Shock covered his face. Then, he spotted the wooden chest and widened his eyes in curiosity.

Emily cleared her throat. “We have to talk, baby.”

Paolo returned his view to her. “Talk?”

“Yes.” She took Pavel’s hand and guided him over to his bed.

His big brown eyes looked up at her in confusion.

What could have been going through his head?

After all this time. . .did he wonder about his mother and father?

Did he pray with those little hands that they would come to pick him up soon?

Or did he already know and was content here with us?

Emily sat down on the bed.

Smiling, he got next to my mouse and snuggled close to her.

He loves her.

“Paolo.” Emily’s voice was soft and gentle. “We need to tell you something very important.”

His gaze shifted to confusion.

Slowly, I walked over, sat down on the edge of his bed, and spoke in Italian, “We need to tell you something very important.”

This time he blinked and turned my way.

I gestured for him to sit next to me.

After a moment of hesitation, he climbed onto the bed, but remained near Emily and placed his small hands in his lap. Pavel and Rosetta had taught him well in that short time they were with him. He was a perfect little gentleman.

I stiffened. “Do you know about heaven?”

Paolo happily bobbed his head. “Angels live in heaven. When they cry, it rains.”

“That is correct,” I said softly. “But, do you know how angels are made?”

He bobbed his head again. “Like nonna. All gone. Bye bye. No more.”

His grandmother passed. This must have been Rosetta’s mother.

Emily watched us.

I pushed on. “Your father and mother. . .they loved you very much.”

Paolo’s face brightened. “Daddy? Mommy? Coming today?”

My mouse may not have understood his Italian, but she got the gist of his emotions.

Her eyes watered.

“No, Paolo.” My bottom lip quivered. “Your Mommy and Daddy. . . are in heaven now. They are angels, watching over you and sending you all their love every day, every moment.”

Paolo’s eyes widened with shock and fear.

And he just sat there in this heartbreaking, oppressive silence. The sort of silence that tore even the most dangerous, strongest man apart. The sort of silence that made anyone with a heart freeze in cold sorrow.



<<<<73839192939495103113>147

Advertisement