Page 12 of Love, Academically
Rhys obviously didn’t feel the need to talk and turned the radio up a couple of notches from a button on his steering wheel.
Nothing so dull as a knob on the dash for Rhys Aubrey.
It was some kind of politics talk show, with a bonging clock to signify changes in topic.
His dark eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he listened, making a ‘hmm’ noise in agreement every now and again.
He was still in his shirt sleeves. He’d literally dropped everything at the office to look after her.
“Rhys.” She put her hand lightly on the bend of his elbow. He glanced at her. “Thank you for today.”
“Yep. I’ll have to pick you up in the morning.”
“I appreciate it and I’ll make it up to you. I can bake cookies!”
Rhys didn’t quite laugh, but she’d take that little curve of his lips as a win.
It was about twenty minutes in traffic before Lila directed Rhys down into the new build estate and onto her little cul-de-sac.
“You can park in the driveway,” she said, indicating Petunia’s parking space. “Don’t hit my plant pots.”
He gave her a disdainful side-eye, as if questioning his driving skill was sacrilegious. She pushed down a smile because Rhys wasn’t half as scary as he thought he was.
Opening the car door, she swung her legs out, hovering her injured one just above the ground as she levered herself up, securing her handbag over her shoulder.
Lila took two tentative shuffle hops and waited for Rhys to appear with her crutches.
Instead, he rounded the car and swept her up in his arms. Again.
His jaw ticked with effort, and dark smudges had appeared under his eyes.
“Rhys, it’s literally four steps. Pass me my crutches,” she protested, but making absolutely no move to get him to put her down. She could get used to this.
“Lila, those four steps will take you half an hour and I can’t cope with the slowness.” He stopped at her front door for her to dig her keys out of her handbag. Tissues, pens, book, phone, oh that’s where that nail varnish was, ah, keys.
“Okay,” she said, but he didn’t put her down.
Rhys marched her into her tiny house, right into the open-plan room on the right and plopped her on the sofa, wiggling his arms out from under her.
He angled the ottoman so she could rest her ankle on it and pulled a blanket with a unicorn on it onto her lap.
There was something strange but comforting about Rhys helping her, trying to get the unicorn blanket just right.
She pressed her lips together and frowned to keep the giggle from coming out.
“Stay here, I’ll get your crutches.”
She could not sit there in her work stuff.
Having a sprained ankle and sitting on the sofa called for warm, comfy lounging clothes and her house wasn’t that big.
Throwing off the blanket, Lila hobbled her way to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled out some fleecy bottoms and an Oodie from the tumble dryer.
She lowered herself gingerly to the floor and wriggled out of her work trousers, shoving them in the washing machine and dragging on the softest bottoms ever made.
The front door slammed.
“Where are you? The fish and chips have arrived,” Rhys called from the front room, the sharp tang of vinegar (double, just as she liked it) filling the house.
“Don’t come in the hallway. I’m getting changed!” Oodies were the best things ever invented, but a little unwieldy and who knew having a sprained ankle was so debilitating? Finally, she levered herself up from the floor and shuffle-hopped back to the living room.
“I’m not even going to ask why you’re getting changed in the hallway.”
Rhys stood behind the sofa, clutching the bag of fish and chips. “Can I move now?”
He was such a drama queen.
Not waiting for an answer, he headed for the kitchen. Grumpy, conker-assed Rhys Aubrey-Dallimore definitely needed something to eat.
Lila positioned herself on the sofa (leg up) and found An Officer and a Gentleman to buy for ￡5.49 on Prime. So worth it. How had Rhys gotten to his mid-thirties without seeing Richard Gere and Debra Winger in this 1980s masterpiece?
“Here.” Rhys reappeared as the opening credits came on, putting a tray of fish and chips on her lap. “I’ve left the gravy on the side for you, because chips and gravy is an abomination.”
“Abomination? You wound me, Mr Aubrey.”
Rhys sat next to her, a tea towel across his knees so he didn’t get his trousers greasy. Bless him.
“What is this?” He gestured vaguely to the TV with a chip.
“Since you are a heathen, I thought An Officer and a Gentleman would be essential viewing to start your education.”
“Fine,” he grumbled.
He looked at her carefully and opened his mouth to stay something, but quickly snapped it shut again.
“What?” she asked.
He looked around the room. “You’ve got a lot of stuff.”
“Mmm hmm. I like things.”
She liked pictures of tropical birds and oriental fans. She liked having her cross stitch where she could reach it from the sofa. She liked having a choice of blankets, depending on her mood. She liked buttons and shiny brooches and carved wooden boxes. She liked her piles of books.
“That’s so not what you were going to say, Rhys.”
Her words were a bit muffled, because eating was much more important right now.
Then the floodgates opened.
“What is with your ex, Jason? Why is he such a prick?” Rhys asked.
Lila opened her mouth to answer his question but Rhys ploughed on.
“I mean, how dare he suggest that you’re incapable?
He doesn’t have any right to talk to anyone like that, let alone his ex-girlfriend of seven years.
In case he forgot, he cheated on you. He doesn’t get a say in how you live your life.
You don’t need anyone to ‘hold your hand’, you don’t need to be looked after.
You’re a capable adult, and it fucks me off that he treats you like a child and you just revert to being one. You don’t act like that at work.”
Wow. That was probably the most she had ever heard Rhys Aubrey speak in one go.
“Um right. Well…” Lila swallowed. All she really wanted to do was sit on the sofa, watch Richard Gere, eat her chips and go to sleep. She shouldn’t have pushed.
“Sorry,” he muttered, stuffing too much fish in his mouth to stop any more words coming out.
“No, no, I asked. It’s okay.” Where to start?
What to say? Lila shifted on the sofa. “We were together for ages and I guess he felt guilty that I was supporting him. So, he tried to help in other ways, like looking after me, making sure I was okay.” Lila shrugged.
“That kind of turned into him making most of the decisions, dealing with the finances. He was jealous if I ever did anything for myself. He was insecure and narcissistic.”
Rhys put his empty plate on the ottoman in front of them and looked at her.
“I couldn’t see it. I thought ours was a normal, loving relationship. I support him, he supports me. I didn’t know those were toxic traits until afterwards. Jasmeet tried to tell me time and again, but I wouldn’t hear it. I suppose the cheating was the last straw.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears.
“Oh,” Rhys said, eyes not leaving her face. He was trying to work her out, like she was one of his historical documents that needed deciphering.
“I kind of revert back to that person when I see him. I don’t see him a lot. In fact, I hadn’t seen him for months until we bumped into him last week,” Lila explained. “But there we are.”
She forced a cheery smile on her face and turned back to the film, because there was absolutely nothing worse than laying yourself bare to someone. Except perhaps crying in front of them. Oh wait, she’d already done that today.
“Lila, no one can make you feel that you’re not good enough. Only you can do that, and you shouldn’t,” Rhys said quietly, leaning back against her purple throw cushion and linking his hands across his stomach. His stomach that was still way too flat after scarfing all those fish and chips.
She watched his pulse jump in his neck, the unhurried rise and fall of his chest, the calm blink of his eyes, and she believed him.
“Okay,” she nodded.
“You finished?” he asked. Not waiting for an answer, he whisked the empty plates into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water for her. Settling himself into the sofa again, he crossed his ankles on the ottoman next to her blanket-covered legs, plain grey socks and all.