“Anyone else we should include?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Possibly my swim coach and my boss at the swim school—they knew when my visa was due to expire, but they haven’t seen me since I was supposed to leave …” I scowled. “Fucking Finley.”
“The girl who was harassing you at the pool?”
“That’s the one. But I gave her an excuse that buys me until at least the end of May. And I doubt I’ll run into her again, as long as I don’t head back to the pool.” A pang of sadness rocked me at the thought of not being able to train, it was a small price to pay to keep myself safe.
“I might have a solution for that too,” Henry muttered thoughtfully, typingFinleyinto the spreadsheet.
“You have a solution for everything.”
“Not even close. Anyone else?”
I wracked my brain. “Well, Gus … he’s the one who suggested I start a Tickle account, so I could still make money without having a visa.”
Henry stilled. “I don’t think you’ve mentionedhimbefore.” There was a thread of tightness in his tone, and it made me stupidly giddy.
“Is that jealousy I detect, Hubby?” I teased, scooting my chair close enough to bump his shoulder. “We wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for Gus. After all, itwasTickle that brought us together.”
He was silent and still for so long, I worried that I’d offended him. I chanced a glance his way—he was watching me with an odd light in his eyes.
“Well. That’s a very good point.” He typed Gus into his little database, stuffing another piece of fairy bread into his mouth, hiding the way his lips tweaked up at the corners.
Pizda, he’s adorable! I want to kiss him some more.
I grinned. “Well, I think that’s it for people who know the truth about me. Next question?”
“Who knows about our marriage? Just Kat?”
I frowned. “No … no one. I haven’t told Kat. I don’t think I will.”
Henry turned to me, his eyes meeting mine just long enough to raise an enquiring eyebrow. “Why not? We need to have witnesses from our social circles who will testify that we have been in a relationship for months. Kat would be an obvious choice for that, don’t you think?”
I sighed. “When you put it like that, yes.” I rubbed my arms. “But I don’t want to ask that of her. The lying, I mean. I’ve already got you, Lucian, Liv and River fucking Riley lying for me. It feels like I’m asking a lot of everyone else for nothing in return.”
Warm hands covered mine, squeezing my fingers. “Not for nothing.”
I shook my head. He could claim that him being married meant not being harassed by gold-digging women all he liked, but I knew, deep down, that this was a completely selfless act for him. Just as I knew that I couldn’t call him on it because he needed me to think he wasn’t just doing this for me, to assuage my guilt.
Better than other men.
“Anyway. Can we not tell Kat? She’s got a lot going on with her mother, and she’s doing this intense one-year musical theatre diploma … and there’s a guy she’s … well not involved with, but …” I waved a dismissive hand. “It’s too long a story for right now. She just found out her dad has Alzheimer’s too, and she’s … well she’s a hot mess, to be honest. I can’t lump my problems on top of all of that—it’s not fair on her.”
Henry nodded. “We’ll come up with a story that excuses your best friend being in the dark.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip. “While we’re on the subject of Kat … I might have to keep staying at the apartment. Only occasionally,” I added hurriedly when his brow furrowed. “If I’m suddenly not there at all, it will be super suspicious. And like I just said, she’s going through some stuff, and regardless of all of this—” I gestured between us— “she’s my best friend, and I need to be there for her.”
Henry pushed his glasses up onto his forehead and massaged his temples. “It would,” he agreed. “And you’re right, you have every rightto support your friends, and a good husband supports his wife’s friendships too. I don’t own you, Irina, and I?—”
“You can call me Ri, you know,” I interrupted. “No one calls me Irina, if they know me well.”
“DoI know you well?” he asked, his glasses falling back into place. His hair was still a tangled mess, thanks to my hands in it just moments ago.
“I’d like you to,” I breathed, and suddenly I was the one with warm cheeks and an inability to make eye contact. I coughed and reached for another slice of fairy bread, pointing at the screen to distract Henry from my flustered state. “Who is ‘Warren’ and why is he a problem?”
Henry’s expression turned dark. “Warren is the reason I forgot the bread this morning.” He took off his glasses, hands finding his knees, squeezing. “Warren wants money from me, and he knows about our wedding … Warren thinks I’ll give him money to stop him threatening you.”
I recalled the scruffy-looking older man in the Uber Eats delivery photo. The one whose expression had sent cold working its way through my veins.
