Page 178 of Angel

He nodded, adjusting the strap of his leather bag slung across his chest.

‘Jude Valenti sent me on an urgent house call.’

He glanced at the destroyed doorframe, taking in the shattered glass and splintered wood before turning his steady grey eyes back to me.

‘Your husband is in shock, I believe.’

‘He’s shut down,’ I said, my throat tight as I gestured toward the hallway. ‘He needs someone to talk to him, please.’

Dr. Hill strode in, and I led him to where Angel sat.

The doctor came to a slow stop at the sight of Angel slumped on the floorboards.

Angel’s gaze fixed on the horizon, his eyes empty and devoid of expression.

‘Angel,’ Dr. Hill said, his tone even as he dropped into a crouch right in front of him.

My husband remained frozen, lost in the fog of his own head.

‘I know you hear me, son,’ Dr. Hill continued, extending a calm hand toward Angel’s uninjured shoulder. ‘You fought off the threat. Roxy and your baby are safe. The fight is over.’

The mention of my name seemed to slice through the haze.

Angel’s mouth twitched, his eyelids fluttering as he dragged his haunted eyes up to meet the doctor’s face.

A raspy, shuddering breath rattled out of his chest, breaking the catatonic grip holding him down.

‘She’s OK?’ Angel croaked out, his voice cracked and raw.

‘She’s right here, unharmed,’ Dr. Hill reassured him, placing a steadying hand under Angel’s elbow.

Angel dragged his eyes to me next, reaching out to me. ‘Babe.’

I smiled at him as our eyes locked and I squeezed his hand.

‘Honey, you’re in shock, and you need to get off the floor and speak with Dr Hill to help you deal with what just happened.’

Angel stared at me for a beat, then, to my relief, he nodded.

Dr. Hill guided my husband up, supporting his broad frame.

I led the way as the doctor steered him down the hall into the quiet sanctuary of Angel’s studio and office.

I left them alone, shutting the door behind them.

Walking back into the kitchen, I sat on a stool and stared down at the shattered pieces of ceiling scattered across the tiles.

The splintered front and back doors hung off their hinges, a stark reminder of how close we’d come to losing everything.

A repairman, a smiley, jolly man called Alan, arrived twenty minutes later, sent by Jude to secure the house before nightfall.

I let him in, eyeing him as he swept up glass shards and mounted sturdy replacement doors onto the frames.

He also patched up the ceiling, promising to bring out a crew to make it look brand new by the end of the week.

My mind spun back to Evangeline, sickened by her endless sense of entitlement and the chaotic havoc she always left in her wake.

I rested both palms over my bump as our baby kicked inside me.