Perfect Husband
Page 18
“Oh, how long have you been here?”
“Six months,” Ian responds, and I stare at him in shock.
When he said he was only here temporarily, I assumed he was going to tell me he had only been here a couple days or weeks, but after six months this apartment should be well broken in, especially since he’s a man.
Ian chuckles at my expression and wheels me through the expansive room. He shows me the kitchen, which is a chef’s dream, then pushes me down the hall and into a large room with an adjoining bathroom.
“This is your room,” he declares and I want to protest that it is too much, but the soft-looking bed with a fluffy blue comforter is so inviting.
“Thank you, Ian. I appreciate this so much. I promise I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry about it, Harbor. It will be nice to have someone living here. I don’t really know too many people here so having a friendly face around will be nice.”
“How much longer do you think you’ll be in New York? Wait, you don’t have to answer that. It’s really none of my business.”
“It’s fine. I’m hoping to have the office up and running in under six months from now.”
“So I have six months to get my stuff in order.” I slap my hand over my mouth and want to crawl under the pretty comforter and hide. What the heck is wrong with me? He’s giving me a place to recuperate and I immediately decide to practically stay.
“Yep, that will give you plenty of time to get your name in lights on Broadway,” Ian answers, not seeming bothered at all by my verbal stupidity.
“I was kidding. I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I’ll find a job and place to stay as soon as I possibly can.”
“Harbor, I promise, it’s fine. I offered my place to you. You did me a favor by not pressing charges. This is the least I can do. It’s not as if I’m using this room, anyway.”
“Ian, it was an accident. I’ve told you that—” Before I can continue, my phone rings, my mom’s name flashing across the screen.
I want to press the decline button, but I know I can’t. I knew just texting my parents wouldn’t hold them off forever.
“I’m sorry, it’s my parents. I have to get this,” I tell Ian before pressing the accept button.
Ian busies himself with getting the bed turned down. I hope my acting skills are ready for their biggest test.
“Hey, Mom. How are you?”
“Harbor, I miss you so much. Are you ready to come home? The principal at the elementary school down the street said he would hire you on as an English teacher.”
I inhale and exhale before I open my mouth, and then launch into the most convincing role I’ve ever played. “Mom, I’m fine. Please let him know as much as I appreciate the offer, I will not be accepting the job.”
Ian glances over at me as he continues walking around the room, opening the curtains, checking in the bathroom. I cringe, thinking how that must have sounded to him after I just told him I was going to get a job and move out. I’m going to have to explain the situation to Ian sooner rather than later. He deserves to know exactly who he is letting live in his house for free.
“I actually have some really good leads for roles already. I’ve been so busy going to a lot of auditions, that’s why I haven’t had time to call you.”
My mom lets out a frustrated breath and we talk a little while longer. She throws in a couple more jabs about me needing to come home and give up on my silly dream and I counter with how well I’m doing. After going back and forth, we both call a draw and hang up after saying I love you.
I glance around the empty room and wonder if I should go find Ian and explain, or just call him in here. The siren call of the bed is strong and without much thought I wheel over to it and transfer myself into its waiting softness. When my head hits the pillow, I know there is no way I’ll be able to stay awake long enough to explain anything to Ian. With a shrug I let sleep pull me under, telling myself I’ll talk to Ian when I wake up.
I wake to my stomach growling, the smell of food drifting in through the half-closed door. Transferring out of my bed, I use the restroom and I’m grateful it’s big enough to maneuver around in my wheelchair. I have crutches, but Ian insisted on the chair until some of the aches that seem to fill my body have worked their way out.
When I make it to the living room, Ian is unloading a plastic bag full of Chinese food. My stomach growls again with appreciation. Ian turns when he hears me and smiles. My heart flips at the sight. Even though it hasn’t been long since his smile disappeared, I still missed seeing it today.
“I thought you might be hungry, and by the sound coming from your stomach I was right.”
I laugh at him and wheel over. I’m grateful he doesn’t seem to be mad, even after hearing what I said to my mom about not wanting the job she offered.
After Ian piles food onto my plate and sits it on a TV tray in front of me, he gets his own and digs in.
“Do you not like Chinese?” he asks when he sees that I haven’t taken a bite yet.
“Oh, no, I love Chinese food and this smells delicious.” Ian quirks an eyebrow and I decide now is as good a time as any. “The job you heard me turn down is in Kentucky, where I’m from.”
“Harbor, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I told you, I’m fine with having you here. The room was just sitting there.”
To my horror, I feel a familiar sting at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to cry. Ian has been nothing but nice to me. And even with the paranoia my parents have instilled in me, I feel like I can trust him. Besides, there is no way he hit me on purpose because he wanted to have a woman in his house.
I blink rapidly until the urge to cry subsides and before I can stop myself, I launch into my story. I tell him everything about why it took me twenty-one years to escape Kentucky, about my parents guilting me into going to school for my teaching degree. Finally, I can’t stop the lone tear when I tell him how scared I was when those men held the knife to my throat and took every possession I owned.
Ian’s face is stone the whole time I tell him about how I ended up eating Chinese food in his fancy apartment. When I’m done verbally unloading everything, he continues to stare at me until I become uncomfortable.
He gets up slowly, and I refuse to give into instinct and wheel away.
He once again surprises me by bending and wrapping his strong arms around me. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. You mentioned the mugging at the hospital, but I didn’t realize how bad it was. Harbor, please don’t feel the need to rush to get out of here. Even if you do find a job, please consider this your place as well. You’re safe here.”
The burning behind my eyes starts again and this time I don’t stop myself from sobbing into his shirt. When I manage to get myself together, Ian moves away to sit in front of his food.
“Now, eat. Everything is going to be alright.”
I give him a watery smile and grab the chopsticks, feeling better now that I’ve told him everything. I wonder briefly if he will ever do the same, and tell me what is obviously eating away at him.
Beneath the Lights is available now!
Also By Leslie Johnson
For a complete list of Leslie’s Books visit:
https://lesliejohnsonauthor.com/my-books/
About the Author
Leslie is a California native but recently moved to Arizona after a stint in Arkansas. She enjoys travel and being with her grandchildren.
She is an avid reader of many genres, but prefers romances with travel or thriller themes. She loves writing about strong women and strong men because the world needs both!
Feel free to get in touch!
https://lesliejohnsonauthor.com/
leslie@lesliejohnsonauthor.com
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