Page 19 of The Man Next Door


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HUDSON

One thing I have to say about my family is they like to stay close. They sometimes remind me of those 80s’ family sitcoms. My parents try to have us over for dinner every Sunday night to catch up, like they really think so much happens in a week.

The thing I hate most about these is their attempt to rile me up, especially my sisters. Most of the time, they end up with me leaving before dinner is over. I shouldn’t have to put up with that around my family. Sure, they have good intentions, but it’s for them, not me. My family wants me to be happy, but I’m fine. So, what if I’m not grinning all the time or running around with friends every night? I’m content with my life the way it is.

My time in the military has transformed me. I can agree I’m not the same person I was before I left. Most aren’t. I left with both my legs and came back with one. Things like that tend to affect people. The first year with the prosthetic was depressing. I felt ashamed, didn’t want to go out in public. I felt emasculated. Who would want to date someone with one leg? It wasn’t just the prosthetic; it was all the things I’d seen happen with my sisters, friends, and complete strangers. When you turned on the TV, there was always something horrifying happening somewhere.

I didn’t talk a great deal to my family about the reason I’m this way, no need to take them down, too, but fighting overseas took its toll on me. Most people focused on the good and tried to forget the bad. I’m the opposite. I only see the bad things happening because they overshadow the good. The only good thing I haven’t forgotten is that I own my company.

Honestly, my company is the best thing that ever happened to me. I can employ veterans who are like me, who don’t have anything to fall back on besides their military experience.

It’s the one piece of my life that makes the best sense, and I’m bypassing it because of Laurel. In a horrible mood, I make my way to my mother’s house, waiting to enjoy the smell of freshly cooked southern comfort foods.

“There you are! You’re late!” my mom screams across the house.

“Can I help ya with anything?” I ask, but I always get the same reply.

I make my way into the den when I hear, “Rolls are in the oven, Lorelai.”

Laurel walks into the den with a smile. This woman drives me nuts, but she always makes me smile at the sight of her. How can it be both ways?

My mom follows her out and asks, “Why don’t you give her a tour while I finish up dinner?”

I love how my mom is trying to push me into Laurel. She must be able to tell there is some attraction there, but it can never work. One thing I have explicitly explained to my family is the fact I like to keep work and personal life separate. A couple of years ago, my sister tried to set me up with Haley. She was an IT intern. So, it’s not like they don’t know my rules.

I take her out to the backyard, and we walk through the garden. “So, how has Lacey been doing?”

“She’s good. Back at school. All the bruises and cuts are healed. That asshole hasn’t contacted her.”

“Asshole? Did you find out what happened?”

“He beat the daylights out of her. It was her boyfriend.”

“How is she handling it? She hasn’t been by.” Maybe I should stop by and check in with her. Living by yourself after something like that has to be scary. I’ll have to remember to keep an eye on her.

“She hasn’t told our parents. Doesn’t want to worry them.”

I can’t imagine what that has been like for her. For someone you trust and have a relationship with to treat you like that. There is one of those bad things again. “Did she press charges at least? Please tell me she did?” I ask, with genuine concern for her safety.

“He’s in jail and awaiting trial. I don’t know how she’s going to face him, but I think after the trial, she will be able to move on and become herself again.”

At least the bastard will be in jail and can’t come near her. I’m sure the court will place a restraining order, too. This will at least give her some peace of mind.

“Well, I’ll stop by and see her. Wanted to see how school was going, anyway.”

At that point, my mom interrupts us, yelling out the back door. “Dinner’s ready. Come dig in.”

“Don’t tell anyone about Lacey. She doesn’t want anyone to know.” Laurel’s arm touches mine, and I bite my lip.

When she acts normal, I want to pull her close and nuzzle her. She truly cares for her sister, and that’s sweet to see. Since knowing her, I’ve seen her crazy side more times than I can count.

At dinner, my mom tries to be slick and ask Laurel all sorts of questions about her life. As if she is prepping me. Why does she like her so much?

“Do you have a boyfriend? A beautiful girl like you… no way you’re single.”

Her fork drops on her plate. “No one in my life like that right now. Maybe someday.”

I meet her eyes, glancing over at me. Sure, she did kiss me, and yes, I did get some sensations, but it just can’t happen.

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