“This is awfully forward of someone I’ve yet to decide if I’ve forgiven or not,” I tell him, cocking an eyebrow. He sighs. “The ten grand for the shelter wasn’t enough?” “My dad once changed all the furniture in his house and office to match my mom’s hair color. And he bought her a whole shelter.” Spinning around, I slide my palms up his chest, wiping away the water droplets painting them. “Your contribution was noted and appreciated but only a start.”
