“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t your insurance give you a rental until you can get a new ride?”
“If I weren’t going through a divorce and my ex-husband wasn’t a jerk, that’s how it would work.” I walk out of the kitchen and go to the couch to pick up my computer and close it. “But since Conner has been threatening to take my car for weeks now, I’m sure he’ll use this as the perfect excuse to do just that.”
“He’s been threatening you?” Noah asks quietly. When I meet his gaze, I find the same look on his face as last night when he found out someone had pointed a gun at me.
“Not like that,” I assure him softly. “He’s just lashing out. I don’t think he would ever hurt me.”
“How’s he lashing out?” He leans back, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“It’s nothing.” I shake my head.
“How’s he lashing out at you?” he repeats a little louder while leaning into me. I flinch. “I would never put my hands on you, babe.”
I lick my lips. “I know.” And I do know that. Still, with his size compared to mine, it would only take him flicking his finger to cause damage. And even if Conner is way smaller than Noah and never hit me, he did get angry and shove me or jab his finger into my face or chest hard enough to hurt. Sometimes, he grabbed me a little too tightly, leaving bruises.
“Never.” His eyes hold mine.
“Okay.” I wrap my arms around my middle.
“Now, tell me how he’s been lashing out at you.”
“It’s nothing, really. He just won’t let me get my stuff and has been threatening to take the car.” I shift on my feet.
“Why haven’t you asked your brother to help you go get your things? Or requested a police escort to pick them up?”
“Because the stuff I have there are things he paid for, and Items I would just sell if I ever got them back. All I really want from him is his signature on the divorce papers so I can move on with my life.” I wave my hand. “I’m trying not to argue with him about bags or shoes I don’t actually need.”
“So he’s not signing the divorce papers?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. My lawyer said he has thirty days to respond. If he doesn’t, we can file with the courts and wait for a date to have the divorce finalized by a judge without his signature.”
“Maybe he’s not happy with what you’re asking for,” he says. Even if he might not mean it with ill intent, it still makes me angry. I know what people think of me, what my brother thinks of me, and what I’m sure he’s said to Noah about the kind of person I was. He might have been right before, but he’s not anymore.
“That’s funny because I’m not asking him for anything, even though I could get alimony and probably a whole lot more than that. I want nothing from him except to forget I was dumb enough to marry him in the first place.”
“You married him for a reason.”
“You’re right. I did. Because I thought I loved him, and he loved me. Then I convinced myself that having nice things and going on trips alone made up for the fact that he was a pompous jerk and a perpetual cheat and liar.” I suck in a breath through my nose, then drop my voice. “Regardless of what you might think of me, I’d rather be broke than broken.” I walk around him to the door and place my hand on the handle. “I really appreciate you bringing me my bag. I know you didn’t have to do that.”
“Babe,” he says gently, his expression going soft.
I open the door, making it clear it’s time for him to go. And, honestly, he needs to leave before I start to cry. With my nose stinging and throat tightening like it is, I know that might happen at any second. “As you know, I have a lot of stuff to do today.”
“Who’s taking you to look for a car?” he asks, not making a move to leave like he should.
“I’m taking myself.” I lift my chin while waving my hand outside, and he mutters something before walking out. I shut the door behind him, then drag in one breath and another until the urge to break down or scream at the top of my lungs no longer feels like it might consume me.
Once I know I’m good, I take my hair out of the towel and head for my bedroom, stopping when my doorbell goes off for the second time this morning. Only this time, I’m pretty sure who it is, so I don’t bother checking the peephole when I reach the door. Instead, I swing it open.
“Wha—?”
“If I’m not sleeping, we’re going out to breakfast,” Noah cuts me off while stepping past me with a duffle bag over his shoulder. I blink at his back. “Where’s the shower?”
“Umm...” I shake my head as I close the door to keep out the cold. “What?”
“I didn’t shower at the station.” He turns to face me. “I need to borrow yours so we can go have breakfast and then head to the dealership.”
“You want to go with me?” I rub my chest, which suddenly feels funny.
“I’m not letting you go alone, babe. Those guys will eat you alive.”
“I doubt that’s true,” I mumble, and his eyes roam over me.
“Trust me. Now, where’s the shower?”
“In the hall.” My nose scrunches. “Actually, in the bedroom. Aiden didn’t put up a shower curtain in the hall bath, and I haven’t had a chance to get one.” Why am I even telling him this? “You can’t go with me.”
“I can’t?”
“No, you just got off work, remember? I’m sure you’re tired.” Plus, being around him makes me nervous and itchy, like I might come out of my skin any second.
“I’ll survive.” He turns and starts down the hall for the bedroom. I quickly move around him to block his path. “Babe—”
“I need to do this on my own.” I wring my hands as he towers over me.
“You need to get a car on your own?” He frowns.
“Yes, I need to prove to myself that I can.”
“Why?” He crosses his arms over his chest.
Gah, he’s relentless. “Because I’ve always had other people taking care of me, and I need to take care of myself for once.” And that’s the truth. Growing up, it was my parents paying my way. Then, when I should have been stepping out on my own, I got married to a guy who could take care of me too. I’ve never had to just find my way. And, honestly, it feels really fricking good when I do something I didn’t think I was capable of doing.
“I’m not paying for your car, and you having someone at your back, making sure you don’t get fucked over, doesn’t make you weak.” I blink at him because that’s true, I guess. “Now, show me where the shower is.”
Recognizing he won’t be deterred, I sigh. “Fine.” I turn for the master bedroom that hasn’t changed much since my brother started letting me stay here. Really, the entire place is the same as when I moved in. The only furniture in the entire two-bedroom townhouse is the sofa, a coffee table, the TV in the living room, and the king-sized bed in the master.
As I grab a couple of towels out of the linen closet, I hear a thud. When I walk into the room, I find he’s dropped his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed.