Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“Too many,” he grumbles. “Can I eat now they’re home?”
Dec sighs and takes my glass, setting it on the side table with his. “Sorry. They’re staying over. Always do on Christmas Eve.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah,” he muses, and a weird silence falls between us I’m sure I don’t like. Dec eventually rakes a hand through his hair, and it’s then I see his blemished knuckles.
“What’s that?” I ask, taking his hand and inspecting it.
“Oh, that.” He frowns down at is hand. “That’s the result of me punching Anthony Fryer.”
“What?” I move back.
“You left your mobile here. There were missed calls from him. Naturally, I was curious.”
“Naturally,” I murmur. “So you didn’t put two and two together and come up with the fact he was pissed off because you fucked up his deal and renegotiated with his dad in your favour?”
He shrugs, sheepish.
“I’m not working for you, by the way.”
“Thomas told me he went to your apartment and found Anthony there.”
“Oh.”
“That he suspects Anthony had something to do with the guy who you fired attacking you.”
“Oh.”
“So, yes, I paid him a visit.” He shakes his hand off. “The police arrested Phillip West yesterday and released him after they’d interviewed him. Obviously, he denied it.”
“How do you know that?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my mobile. “They said they’d be in touch to get your statement. I want you to tell them about what happened when Anthony turned up at your apartment yesterday too. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agree easily. They’re both bullying, misogynistic bastards. I hope they never work again.
“Good.” Dec coaxes me into the lounge. “Let’s talk. I want you to know what happened after you ran out the other day.”
With Chelsea.
Oh God.
Dec sits me down on one of the huge couches and puts himself at the other end. “Why have you put so much space between us?” I ask. “In case I don’t like what I hear?”
He frowns and gets back up, coming to my end and dropping to the cushion next to me, taking my hand. “I just want transparency between us. No surprises. She wasn’t happy when she didn’t get the reaction from me that she wanted, and knowing Chelsea as I knew her, and I can’t imagine she’s changed in the four years since she left, I expect there’ll be some backlash.”
“Okay,” I murmur, buckling myself in.
“She wanted us back.” He looks at me for my reaction, but I have no reaction. I figured that out before I overheard her tell him she wanted to come home. “I told her that wasn’t an option, which obviously led her on to you.”
“Obviously,” I whisper, watching him, how uncomfortable he is. This isn’t boding well. It feels like he’s bracing himself to tell me something damaging.
“She kissed me.”
My back automatically pushes back into the couch, putting some space between us that I didn’t want a moment ago. “Did you kiss her back?”
“Jesus, no.” He looks horrified at the suggestion. “Never. But I know that woman. She will try to spin this and make you believe it was more than me being jumped and pushing her off. April walked in when she heard the commotion, and suffice to say, Chelsea barely made it out alive.”
I smile on the inside, mentally cheering April on.
“I’m letting my lawyer take over from here. He’s working on a restraining order for the time being to keep her away from us, but it will be in the hands of the family court and I’m well aware they could deem it in Albi’s best interests to have contact with his biological mother. She doesn’t want Albi. The money she took has obviously run out. My legal team are working on digging up what they can—where she’s been, what she’s been up to.”
“Why are we even talking about her?” I ask.
He withdraws a little. “I thought—”
“You wanted transparency.” I smile. “I believe you are a good man, Dec. An amazing father.” I take his hand and squeeze.
“Just trying to be a good boyfriend too.”
“Have you cleaned your teeth, rinsed with mouthwash, and disinfected anywhere she touched you?” He was half naked.
He smiles mildly. “Scrubbed.”
“Then I take you back.”
He laughs. “Okay, good.”
“Chelsea doesn’t matter, Dec. Albi does. What did you say to him?” He must have been a little anxious wreck.
“Blaine took him to his treehouse at the bottom of the garden, so he didn’t see or hear anything, thank God.” He puts his face in his hands, brushing them down his stubble. “I told him the lady who stopped by was someone who works for me, and now I’m terrified he’ll hold it against me when he’s older. I never want to lie to him, Camryn.”
“You did what you had to do in the moment. You protected him.”
He nods, but it’s not a convincing nod. He’s questioning himself. It’s standard when you’re a parent. I don’t know how many times in Noah’s short life I beat myself up over one thing or another, questioned myself, argued with two parts of my mind that were conflicting. We do what we can, and we hope we do it right. I need to move this along. “What time did Albi go to bed?”