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“Why were you thinking about him?” Even though it was ridiculous, he found that he felt jealous.
Not of Jamie, but that her thoughts were of the bastard when Josh didn’t want any part of her focused on that hideous past. And he hated himself for feeling that way because the last thing she could control were her thoughts and feelings. As if things weren’t tough enough for Samantha, the last thing he needed was for her to fear talking about that once best friend.
Before she could answer, he reached for her hand. It amazed him that she’d raised this topic over cantaloupes and other fresh produce, when they could have easily discussed it back at her house.
Women, he thought amusedly, could pick the damnedest places to talk about the important stuff.
“Don’t answer that. I have no right to ask.”
Her voice was husky as she said, “Of course you do. You’re important to me, Josh. If anyone can ask me something, even if it’s painful, it’s you.”
He blinked at that, taken aback, but he shook his head. “Maybe, but I have no right to make you feel badly about thinking over what Jamie was like.” He cleared his throat. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you.” He didn’t tell her that sometimes, on the occasions when he’d slept over, he heard her whimper in her sleep and his mind always traversed to a dark place. A place where he wondered if she was dreaming about Jamie.
Did she have nightm
ares about him, he asked himself? Did she remember the dark days when her husband had abused her? And did they haunt her sleep?
She peeped at him again, tugging a lock of hair behind her ear. It astonished him how she could look so beautiful to him with such lack of artifice.
She wore simple cut-offs, a white T-shirt, and her hair was half-up and half-down in a topknot. That was it. A bit of gloss on her lips, and he thought he saw a faint darkening of mascara on her lashes, nothing more, nothing less. Yet Josh wasn’t sure if he’d seen a more beautiful woman all day. More like, all week.
She had him in knots, he knew, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset by that. Maybe she was meant to, he was starting to believe.
“I don’t want to think about him at all, but then…”
When she broke off, he cupped her cheek. As his thumb swept over the curve of her chin, she sighed and tilted her head, letting him take the weight. “Then, what?”
“Then Erin will do something that reminds me of him and I can’t stop myself,” she blurted out in a rush. Then, her hand came up and she clapped it over her mouth. “I shouldn’t say this to you. I don’t want you to think…”
“Stop worrying about what I think. My thoughts are my own.”
“Yeah, because you really want to be dating someone who’s fixated on another man.”
Samantha’s bitter tones hurt him. “Stop it,” he chided her. “I’m well aware of what Jamie did, and maybe I’d be jealous if you were thinking about sex or even if you were missing him, I guess. And that makes me sound like a horrendous person because if he’d been a good husband, you would be well within your rights to miss him if he’d passed on, even if you were dating someone else. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date.”
“But that’s it, Josh. I’m glad he’s dead,” she whispered. “I’m glad, so glad, and I hate myself for that. How can I be happy when he was Erin’s father?”
“Because he was a terrible father and a terrible husband,” Josh countered. “You didn’t make him take drugs, did you?”
“No, but he said I drove him to it sometimes.” She gnawed at her bottom lip. “But I didn’t. I tried to be a good wife, only, nothing I did was ever good enough for him.”
He hushed her, gently shushing her as he murmured, “Stop it, Samantha. Stop it. You’d be strange if you weren’t glad—you’re not celebrating the fact he’s dead, you’re celebrating the fact you’re no longer under his thumb. That you’re free from his clutches.” Josh stroked her cheek again. “That’s perfectly natural.”
She clenched her eyes shut. “It is?”
He sighed. “Yes. It is.” When her lashes opened and he saw the crystalline gleam of her eyes, he murmured, “Maybe you should talk to a therapist. Someone who can help you get through what happened. God knows, I’m not trained. I’ve already put my foot in it.”
She shook her head, then shoved the cart out the way and wrapped her arms around his waist.
It was a damn odd place to hug him, but he found he didn’t care. He didn’t even care if someone snapped a picture of him and it ended up on social media.
Fuck them all.
Because at that moment, there was nowhere else he wanted to be but in this woman’s arms.
Slowly, he reached around and settled his hands on her lower back. He moved carefully, not wanting to jolt her. She was still jerky sometimes, and he knew that was because of how Jamie had behaved around her.
A part of him vowed to himself, and to her, that he’d do whatever he could to undo Jamie’s conditioning. And some days, it was easy to forget his best friend had been a wifebeater, an abusive asshole, because Samantha could be so bright and sunny, so happy and light…
