“Warren is also my father,” Henry finished on a tired sigh. “He’s a gambling addict. We’ve been estranged for a decade, but he’s kept tabs on me and has been persistent in his attempts to contact me since Tickle took off and the media started reporting that I was wealthy.”
I gaped. This gorgeous, smart, sensitive man came from that dead-eyed creep? From a creep who had no issue with threatening his own son—and me—to fuel his habit?
I shivered. “I am all too familiar with that particular type of man.”
“I wondered, after our first meeting, if maybe someone in your life had an addiction,” Henry murmured. “Because you seemed so very against my medication.”
I waved a dismissive hand, hoping it wasn’t shaking. “Like I said, my family is not a nice one. Hence me wanting to stay here in Australia.” As far as possible fromhim.
“Should we include your family in the database?” Henry asked suddenly, picking up his glasses. “Will they try to force you home?”
A chill crept under my skin, and I wrapped my arms around myself.Yes. That’s exactly what they’ll do. And if that happens … I’ll never be free again.
But I couldn’t tell Henry that. I couldn’t burden him with my frightening reality. As far as the family were aware, I was reliant onhismoney to survive away from them. And he was arrogant enough to think that all he’d need to do was cut me off, to have me rushing home. They’d underestimated me all my life.
“No, I don’t think they’ll bother with me,” I lied. “There’s no need for you to worry about them.”
He turned, his eyes roving me, concern and confusion written all over his face. “Irina … Ri, we’re doing all of this to make sure that you don’t have to go back there to them, which tells me Ineedto worry about them.”
I shook my head vigorously. “You really don’t,” I said, injecting as much conviction into my voice as I could muster. “I’m already handling that side of things. And don’t forget, a marriage is a partnership, so we need to …” I wracked my brain for the saying that was on the tip of my tongue. “Decide and conquer!”
His lips twitched. “Divideand conquer, perhaps?”
I smacked at his arm, some of the chill melting from my bones. “English is stupid, and my way makes sense. We decide what parts we’re going to take charge of, and we get it done! So, you worry about the official government stuff … and let me worry about … about placating my family.”
Henry watched me, his focus darting between my eyes and my lips. “Yes. That seems reasonable. But they’re still going into the database.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he’d already typed ‘Rusnac family’ into the next cell in his spreadsheet. I snapped my mouth shut. I didn’t need to protest too much about this or he might get suspicious. Let him put them in his little spreadsheet, it wasn’t going to mean anything.
A plaintive yowl and frantic scratching at the door thankfully distracted Henry from any further questions he might have had. I jumped up, admitting a bemused-looking Abernathy, who immediately wound himself around my ankles, and a haughty Trinket. She went straight to her dad, leapt onto the desk and essentially ended the whole conversation when she strutted across the laptop keyboard. Henry cursed, shooing her away and rectifying the string of letters she’dadded. He shut the laptop, gave her a tap on the nose that was more affectionate than annoyed, and turned to me.
“He’s smitten,” he said, gesturing to Abernathy, who was climbing my leg and purring frantically. I gave in, scooping him up and heading for the bed. Once seated, the cat flopped into my lap with a huff, presenting his stomach for a rub.
“He’s just a wittle sweetie!” I cooed, scratching his chest.
Henry snorted. “If I attempted to touch him like that, I’d be heading straight for the emergency room for antibiotics for a cat bite.”
I pinched Abernathy’s cheeks. “No! My sweet boy wouldn’t do that, would he? He’s a pacifist, look at him!”
Abernathy’s purr was a violent, vibrating rumble in my lap, and I smirked at Henry, who mumbled, “Catnip,” while gazing at the pair of us with a soft expression.
In too deep, Irina.
That look on his face … it was too much for me. My eyes fell to the bed. The comforter was mussed, a blanket laying in a tangle at the end. The corner of a book poked out from under it.
I leaned back, ignoring the half-hearted protest from Abernathy that his lap was moving, and tugged the book free.
“The Hunger Games. I thought this was a movie.”
Henry’s eye roll was so exaggerated I had to bite back a giggle. “It was a bookbeforeit was a movie. And while the film is, by adaptation standards, very well done, the movies simply can’t convey that feeling of living it with Katniss the way the books do.”
I turned the book over, skimming my eyes over the blurb. I didn’t want to take the time to read it properly because that would be embarrassingly drawn out. English wasn’t my first, or even my second language, and sometimes reading it felt like so much hard work.
“This book has gotten me through some very rough times in my life,” Henry explained softly, his attention on his hand, stroking gently between Trinket’s ears. “They became a comfort read for me, which is ironic, given the subject matter. But they allowed me to escape the reality of my childhood, many, many times.”
I swallowed around a sudden lump in my throat. I could relate to the need to escape. Hadn’t I experienced the same so many times in my own childhood? But I’d turned to swimming when I couldn’t cope withthe world around me. Henry’s coping mechanism … I was holding it in my hand. It suddenly felt precious: the thing that had brought him through the hard times, to be who he was today. This kind, generous person sitting in front of me.
“Anyway,” he continued, likely oblivious to the prickling tears in my eyes. “When I experience … what I did earlier today, I still reach for them. They’re familiar, the characters feel like my family, and it helps me to tune out of reality for a bit while my body is calming down from a …”
