“Would you kill me?” I ask, my hands trembling at my sides.
“Never. And I would never let another soul hurt you.” Don’t ask me why, but I believe him. “Can I stay?”
“I’m tired,” I whisper.
“Let’s go to bed.” He closes the door behind him and then bands his arms around me. My legs go around his waist as he lifts me. “Do you think I’ll wake up being handcuffed again?” he teases.
I lay my head on his shoulder. “Only if you ask nicely.”
I feel his chest rumble with soft laughter before we enter my room. He lays me down and hovers over me as I let go of him. Standing, he removes his shirt, followed by kicking off his shoes and then dropping his trousers. He grabs the blanket at the end of the bed before he climbs in next to me, and he pulls it over us. His arm hooks around my waist, and he turns me, pulling me into the curve of his body.
“Go to sleep, Cora.”
True to his word, he doesn’t try anything.
He simply holds me all night.
I thought he would still be in bed with me the next morning.
So I’m actually surprised he isn’t.
His smell still lingers on my bedsheets, but there is no sign of him.
When I get up, I find a croissant and a cup of coffee on the counter. As I pick up the mug, I feel it’s still warm. A small smile plays on my lips at the thought of him leaving and going to get me breakfast, and then coming back.
I look around my apartment for any indication he might still be here somewhere, but then I hear my phone ding from the bedroom. I head back to my room to find he’s sent me two messages.
Arlo: I had an emergency at work.
Arlo: Come to dinner with my friends and me tonight.
I’m not sure if I want to be around him and his friends tonight. I feel like he keeps a lot of secrets from me; he’s quite the mystery I can’t seem to crack. I also think that if I dig any deeper, that could be dangerous. Cressida told me to be careful, but I can’t help it. I let the man into my home, my bed, and my body, so it’s only natural to want to know the person getting so close to you, right?
I know parts of him, and I’m thankful he’s shared those things with me. I haven’t had to share too much for the simple fact that he already looked into me. He knows my mother is the most important thing in my life.
I get ready for the day because I need to visit her. I open the kitchen cupboard where I store several bars of white chocolate and grab one. I drink the coffee, then head outside to find Matty waiting for me.
The drive goes by very quickly as I answer a few emails and do some work.
I never dreamed of being a real estate agent growing up. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I just knew I wanted to do something that would make me a lot of money. At first, real estate paid me fuck all. But when I landed my first big sale, I remember the adrenaline rush that came with it and the realization that I was going to get a substantial payday for all the hard work. And now I’m addicted and can’t stop.
“I won’t be long,” I tell Matty as I get out of the car.
I sign in at the reception desk and pull out my wallet to pay the bill when the nurse waves a hand at me.
“It’s been covered for the next five years.”
I look at her, confused. “What? I don’t have any family, so no one else would pay for my mother but me.” The smile wipes from her face, and she looks down at the computer and types something before she looks back up.
“Sorry. It’s definitely all paid.”
“Can you tell me by whom?” I ask her, leaning over to see if I can spot who might have done this.
“I would, but it was all done over the phone. Anonymous,” she says and smiles. “What a blessing.” I stand there a moment longer, stunned, before walking to Mom’s room with my mind reeling. With every slow step, I let a multitude of feelings wash over me: relief that this weight has been lifted off my shoulders, sheer disbelief that someone would do something like this—for Mom, and for me. Warmth and appreciation because I’ve been on my own, working so hard—for so long… and yet someone out there is taking care of us Ashford women, even from a distance.
Once again, I find a fresh bouquet of flowers sitting on her bedside table. Who the hell keeps sending her flowers? Who the fuck paid all that money for her care?
I take a seat across from her, not kissing her cheek this time. She’s to the point where she doesn’t recognize me anymore, so I don’t want to freak her out by having her think a stranger is kissing her. I ask her how she is, and she answers me today. Some days, she doesn’t. Then I pull out the chocolate. How her eyes sparkle at the sight of it, and she immediately reaches for it, so I give it to her.
