Page 30

I considered it. Lucas had seemed so troubled, similar to how a younger Henry had grappled with his emotions. With his sudden loss of mobility, his games, his routine.
“Well, I can understand Lucas’s emotions in a way that perhaps you are struggling to. And going by how the nanny couldn’t handle him either, I feel like Lucas is aware that everyone around him is on tenterhooks and no one really is comfortable with him, and that frustrates him even more.”
Again, very similar to Henry.
Sean drew in a deep breath, tilting his head as he regarded me. “You don’t seem to be uncomfortable around him.”
I nodded, my cheeks flushing. “That’s because Lucas resembles someone I know.”
“Do you have a child too, Chloe?”
I drew in a deep breath. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only one worried about your family.”
His gaze went to my ringless finger and then to me. His expression hardened, and he nodded, acknowledging my need to keep my personal life private. “I understand.”
I could sense that he was withdrawing. That the possibility of questions I could ask him were now reduced and that I needed to leave. He’d gone cold.
“Is that all, Mr. Tassater?” I asked, getting up.
He gave me a barely perceptible nod. “That will be all, Ms. Nichols.”
At the door, I turned around to glance at him. He was standing by the couch, and our gazes locked. His expression matched what I’d seen on him the very first time at the café. Smoldering, intense, but also probing. He was just as handsome at the end of the day as he had been at the beginning. Silent, intense, and misunderstood perhaps.
“Thank you,” he said at last. “Rest assured, this will be the last time I trouble you after work, Ms. Nichols.”
I had given him many reasons to fire me. Instead of doing that, he had given me my evenings back.
Why did that only increase how much I admired him?
17
CHLOE
Henry recovered from his reaction to the new medicine fairly quickly once he stopped taking it and was able to resume attending his classes within two days.
He hadn’t realized I’d gone out that night and was very uneasy when I told him about it later.
“Why would your boss send you on errands at that hour?” he had asked, frustrated, and I’d instantly regretted telling him. Now, he would worry about me. “I don’t trust this guy, Chloe.”
A few days ago, I might have agreed. But after that night, when I’d seen a different side to Sean, I wasn’t so sure. But I’d assured Henry that it wouldn’t happen again.
“I’ll be at home with you in the evenings, Henry,” I’d promised.
I’d picked up his old medicines, paid up, and skipped paying for the PMP certification course. I’d told myself it didn’t matter at all. But now, as I sat in our van, waiting to pick up Henry from his late-night club meeting at his college, I wistfully looked at the few students walking across the campus.
Focus, Chloe.Skipping your PMP certification was not a sacrifice at all, I reminded myself,since you didn’t know if youhad it in you to get PMP certified anyway, and you’re happy to put it off once more.
But I’d never gone to college, and nights like this—when I faced yet another setback in my career goals—were times when I found myself regretting parts of my life.
I had been eighteen when Dad left us, and I didn’t have it in me to care for Henry, earn an income,anddeal with classes and grades. I took the first job that I could find and made sure we could continue the same basic lifestyle we were used to. And I’d wanted to be cheerful while doing it all. Henry should never suspect I was unhappy. What use was it when he was dealing with his own unhappiness?
It was close to seven at night, and I got out of the van, leaning against the side and looking up at the dark sky.
There was a lot to be thankful for too. Greg, my apartment neighbor, had waved to me today from his kitchen window when I came home at half past five. He hadn’t spoken to me yet, but I knew he was grateful for my bringing the trash in on his behalf. Someday, I hoped to be able to invite him over for coffee and cake, but something told me that would take a while.
Sean had made sure I was reimbursed for all my expenses from that night, not even bothering to look at the receipts I’d so carefully collected.
The silence of the night broke with the shrill ring of my phone.