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I do my best to give him a sympathetic smile. “What did he have to say for himself?”
I expected Joel to be annoyed or upset at the thought of the call — his relationship with his dad is tense at best — but instead he just makes this weird expression, like he’s happy but he can’t quite believe it. “He isn’t mad at me.”
“That’s good,” I say, but before I can prompt him with another question, the floodgates open and the story crashes out of him.
“He wants me to go back to work. He said I’ve done a good job at staying out of the public eye and he sounded kind of like he was impressed? Like he wasn’t expecting anything of me like usual. But he was pleased with me and he said I might even get an expansion in the office if we do good work and I don’t fuck it all up again.”
“Well, that’s really good,” I smile, relieved for him that he didn’t get told he was a stupid waste of space again. No one deserves to get told that, no matter how true it might appear.
He cuts me off without listening. “And he wants me to go back tomorrow.”
My face falls. My shoulders sag. I only just manage to hold in the shocked gasp. I can’t help it. I don’t want to look disappointed because none of this is Joel’s fault — of course it’s not. It really is good that his father is so happy with him, and I’m so, so happy for him that he’s becoming a version of himself he likes more.
I just wish it hadn’t popped our bubble so suddenly and left us tumbling to the ground without warning.
“Guess you’ll be leaving, then.” I hate the bitterness that creeps into my voice, like I’m a child whose toys are being taken away.
Me and Joel aren’t that different after all.
“Yeah. But this doesn’t have to be over.”
“Doesn’t it?” I clench my fist under the table, my eyes starting to sting with angry tears. I can’t cry. I won’t cry. Not over a stupid boy. “You’ll be back off to your life then. You won’t need me anymore.”
His mouth opens and closes like a nutcracker as he tries to figure out what to say. I sigh and reach out my hand to him. He takes it and squeezes it tightly.
“I’m sorry for being in a mood,” I say. “It’s just… I’ve really enjoyed this. Here. With you. I’m so scared it’s going to be over.”
“I know I don’t exactly have a reputation for being trustworthy,” says Joel, looking deep into my soul. Those blue eyes are so captivating, so full of life that you can’t help but get swept up in them. “But I swear to you, I’m not going to forget you, Anna. I can’t promise to be perfect but I’m going to try.”
I take a shaky breath, my thumb rubbing over his knuckles. He looks so kind when he’s being sincere, like all of that smug-bastard aura drains right away to leave the good man I know he can be underneath. Should I be trusting a man like this? Almost definitely not. I’ve seen the reports, heard the stories.
But he’s never lied to me.
All week, he could have buttered me up because he was bored or horny, seduced me into bed and then given me the cold shoulder. And the sex has been great but seeing him has been better. There’s a real person under all that bravado. If Joel was playing games with me, by now he would have already won.
“You’d better mean that, because if you break my heart, I’m going to hurt you really badly,” I say with a wobbly smile.
He smiles warmly back at me. “I’d expect nothing else. I need someone who’s going to treat me like I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot, you’re just spoiled.”
His eyes widen in fake shock, but then he shrugs and nods. “I guess that’s fair.”
“I won’t be acting like a good little wife to you, you know. I’m not sitting at home all day cooking and cleaning for my big strong husband who’s off at work and out partying and fucking random women and—”
“Husband?” he cuts me off with a sly grin.
I purse my lips, trying to look angry while I can feel my entire face flushing. I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t know if I really mean it, but I don’t think I hate the idea. “Shut up,” I say weakly. “That wasn’t my point.”
He flashes me a grin, but then his face falls back into that sincerity that makes me believe every word he says. “I know. I’m not expecting that. God knows I can’t cook, but I want you to be a friend and lover, not a maid. I’d just like, get a maid if I wanted a maid.”
My heart flutters at the utter lack of eloquence. “Okay. Good.”
“I may be a scoundrel but I’m not a cheat. I want to be here for you, Anna. And that’s why I cooked. Because I wanted to ask you how you would feel—”
He never gets to finish his question, though, because we get interrupted by the sound of the door. We both freeze and turn to look. My blood runs ice cold at the idea of another break-in. Despite everything I just said, I absolutely would let Joel take an intruder on. If nothing else, he could afford the medical fees.
But this is worse than an intruder. The door opens and I find myself cursing the idea of open floor plans when the figure who comes into the house steps into the light and morphs unmistakably into the shape of my brother.
