Finding Gwen

Chapter Ten

Rolling over in bed, I readjusted the pillow beneath my head and pulled my blankets tighter around myself. Though slightly confused by the lack of softness to them, I decided it wasn’t important enough to warrant getting up. My body relaxed back into the mattress so I could hopefully get a few more minutes of sleep before my alarm goes off. Yawning, I breathed in the most intoxicating mix of pine and bourbon. Immediately, my eyes flew open. This wasn’t my bed. I nearly fell on my face trying to rid myself of the sheet tangled in between my legs when a photo of Ollie and his dad caught my attention. Freezing, I looked around the room and recognized all of Anthony’s things. Shit, how did I end up in his bed?

A loud beeping sound interrupted the growing anxiety, and it took me longer than it should have to recognize it was the smoke alarm. Rushing out of the room, I crossed the hallway to find Ollie’s door wide open with him not inside. Frantically searching the closet, I called out to him, wondering if he had climbed out of his crib and then hid when the alarm went off. “Ollie! Oliver!” Panic set in when I couldn’t find him. Running down the steps, I continued calling for him as I made my way through the house.

In the midst of looking, Ollie’s giggles broke through the panic, and I followed the sound through the house in a sprint. I was preparing myself to have to scoop him up and make a run for it when I rounded the corner into the kitchen, stopping dead in my tracks.

On the stove was a tray of what I could only assume used to be bacon by the smell in the air, but was now burnt beyond recognition. Next to it was the stove top griddle, which had a half melted spatula on it, covered in a wet baking mix. There were eggshells scattered on the floor and a bowl filled with more of the wet mix. Looking at Ollie, his back turned to me, there was no hiding that he was covered head to toe with flour. He had his little hands up in the air mimicking his dad, who was using a kitchen towel to try to fan smoke away from the alarm. Anthony was shirtless under the kitchen apron he had on, and I couldn’t help myself as I admired the detailed lines of his arm muscles and noticed he, too, was covered in flour. Trying to hold in my laughter, I slapped my hand over my mouth, muffling the chuckle that escaped. I was unsuccessful, tears springing to my eyes as a full laugh came out of me, causing me to lean on the doorway for support.

Ollie noticed me first, turning and running toward me, laughing. Picking him up and putting him on my hip, I wiped some of the mix off his face. “Miss Gen, I make breakfast!” I looked at Anthony, who had stopped fanning the smoke, and noticed the pleading look on his face. Hiding my smile, I walked past him and opened the window nearest the alarm. Within minutes, the alarm stopped blaring, and I looked down at Ollie.

“How about we let your dad go get cleaned up while we handle the kitchen? Then we can see what can be saved for breakfast.” Turning to Anthony, he looked dumbfounded, so I gestured with my head. “Go, I’ve got this.” I offered a smile, hoping it reassures him.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, not meeting my eyes before leaving the kitchen. I refrained from staring after him, knowing I would probably drool over his shirtless back more than I did his arms. After setting Ollie down on his feet, I ruffled his hair, shaking out all the loose mix, then brushing off his pajamas.

“I think this is as good as it’s going to get, buddy. We’ll get you changed after breakfast,” I said.

“Clean?” he asked, continuing to smile up at me.

“Yeah, let’s get things cleaned. Wanna go get the broom and dustpan?” Without answering, Ollie grabbed it and began haphazardly sweeping the floor. Even though I knew he was going to end up making a bigger mess, all that mattered was he was kept busy. This way, I could focus on cleaning up everything else. After taking inventory of what needed to be done, I started tossing things into the trash.

Twenty minutes later, the kitchen was returned to order and Ollie was watching Daniel Tiger in the living room with a bowl of dry cereal. He had quickly lost interest in helping clean, which I didn’t blame the poor guy, and nothing was very salvageable from the breakfast disaster.

I was starting the dishes when I heard a pounding on the front door that echoed through the house, startling me. Drying off my hands, I made my way to the front door, peeking in on Ollie to make sure he was still hypnotized by the talking tiger. There’s another knock on the door, this one visibly causing the door to rattle on its hinges. Without looking through the peephole, I swung open the door and my heart dropped into my stomach.

Standing on the porch was Matthew, holding a single rose in his hand. I froze, stunned.

He must have thought it was an invitation as he tried to walk into the house. Panic coursed through me, throwing a look over my shoulder to make sure Ollie was still in the living room and Anthony was upstairs. I could still hear the water running in the shower. Shoving Matthew back onto the porch with a hand on his chest, I stepped outside with him, closing the door softly behind me.

“Matthew, what are you doing here?” Again, he tried to push the flower toward me and I pressed my back against the door, putting as much distance between us as possible. He pulled away, looking almost hurt that I wouldn’t accept his gift. There were so many questions running through my head right now. “How did you find me? How did you get out of jail?”

“I called in a favor. I know you didn’t mean to have me arrested,” he chuckled, as if this was all some kind of game that he was obviously winning. Why had I been so na?ve as to think one of his good family friends wouldn’t come running to his rescue? “I had to call in another favor so I could find you. I know you feel guilty about having me arrested, which is why I came to find you.”

“Why would I feel guilty, Matthew? You tried to force yourself on me.” I was trying to stay calm. Matthew needed to leave so I could get back inside before Anthony came downstairs and discovered I was gone.

“If Ivy hadn’t shown up, you would be back with me, where you belong.” His jaw set as he spoke, his fists balling at his sides. He leaned forward, and I reached for the doorknob behind me, my flight instinct seconds from setting in. My chest rose rapidly, trying to figure out if I could make it inside before Matt could react. I would deal with Anthony’s unfortunate opinion of me later. I just needed to get away. As if seeing my reaction, he lifted his hands defensively, the crumpled flower dangling between his fingers. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. We’ve been engaged for over a year, baby. Just come home and we can figure this out.”

“I don’t belong to you. Matt. I’m not something you can own,” I lashed out, a wave of confidence washing over me.

“Fuck this.” Matthew lurched forward, throwing the rose on the porch and grabbing my wrist. “It’s time for you to stop playing house with some stranger.”

“Can I help you?” The unmistakable voice came from behind me.

I didn’t need to look to know that Anthony was standing behind me. The warmth radiating from his body alone wrapped me in a blanket of security, easing the fear that had been causing my breathing to grow ragged.

“Nope. Just talking to my fiancé. In private, if you don’t mind,” Matt snarled through gritted teeth. His grip on my wrist tightened as he swung me around to stand next to him, and I fought back the tears that stung my eyes. Meeting Anthony’s gaze, I silently pleaded for help, not caring at that moment that this may mean the end of my employment with him. He stepped out onto the porch, his shoulder halter holding his gun snug against his chest shining in the light, causing Matt to stumble backwards, dragging me with him.

“She won’t be leaving with you,” Anthony asserted confidently. Matthew tried to interrupt but stopped when Anthony took a step toward him. Matthew let go of my wrist and I inched behind Anthony, who was continuing his advance toward Matthew. “I know your type. Men who think they can intimidate women into doing whatever they want for them. That’s not how this is going to work. So I suggest you get off my property before my friends down at the police station make sure you never step foot within spitting distance of Gwendalyn again.”

Without him realizing it, Matthew had been backed to the edge of the porch. He took a step back and proceeded to fall flat on his ass. Anthony continued towering over him as I peeked out from behind him, waiting to see what would happen next. As Matthew got up, Anthony’s left arm settled against my side and his right hand hovered above his gun.

“This isn’t over,” Matthew spat, then turned and headed down the street. I stayed behind Anthony as I watched him leave, knowing his threat wasn’t an empty one.

As if a switch had been flipped, I remembered Ollie was still inside. Rushing inside, I found him exactly where I left him, now curled up on the couch, fast asleep, with a blanket draped over his little body. Anthony must have checked in on him before coming outside.

Shit, Anthony… I turned around but saw no sign of him in the house. I was going to lose my job.

The adrenaline was slowly leaving my body as I stood frozen like a statue. I needed to focus on something… Walking to the kitchen, I started washing the dishes when the redness of my wrist caught my eye.

My hand flew to my mouth, muting the small gasp that escaped as tears ran down my cheeks. Hearing footsteps behind me, I spun on my heel to find Anthony standing an arm’s length away from me. Anger flashed across his face and my heart pounded in my chest, worried that it was aimed toward me. He took my wrist in his hand, his rough fingers sliding across my inflamed skin as he inspected it closely. A heat settled across my skin at his gentleness, letting me know his irritation wasn’t aimed at me. Suddenly, he pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me.

My instincts begged me to pull away, but the safety of Anthony’s body encompassing mine stopped me. The tightness in my chest melted away, and I pressed my face against his shirt, feeling the softness on my cheek. Inhaling his scent, everything hit me. Matthew found me.

I clung to Anthony, not caring that he was my boss and this was beyond the professional boundary I had tried to set. Pressing my face into his shirt, my hands fisted the fabric as I let the tears fall freely, silently.

“Shhh, I got you,” he whispered into my hair, his chin resting on top of my head. One of his hands rubbed small circles on my back in an attempt to calm my shaking body. Tears continued to form wet paths down my cheeks, Anthony’s t-shirt absorbing what it could. There was a small voice telling me to pull away from him, that this wasn’t right, but I couldn’t. For the first time in a long time, I was seen. Anthony didn’t move, as if he’s content to wait as long as it took for my body to calm and tears to dry. My fists slowly relaxed, dropping the balled up fabric. Pulling away, Anthony loosened his grip on me and I tilted my head back to look up at him.

He was looking down at me, and for a split second, I stopped breathing. The way his eyes shined as if trying to communicate to me without words, his emotions at the moment caused my heart to skip. All rational thoughts went out the window as I pushed up on my tiptoes, closing my eyes and pressing my lips to his. His hand went to the back of my head, gently holding it as he steadied me.

My body melted into his and for a second, I was lighter than I’ve ever been. My heart was beating in my chest so fast that I was afraid Anthony could hear it.

Then the rational part of my brain came back online. What the hell was I doing? I jerked away with such force that Anthony’s hands were frozen in the air. Gripping onto the counter to steady myself, I met his eyes as he dropped his hands.

“Anthony, I’m so sorry. I didn’t–” I stumbled backwards as I spoke, trying to put distance between us when my back hit the wall. Anthony rushed forward, reaching out a hand to catch me. I flinched, closing my eyes and turning my body away from him, crouching slightly as I prepared for some kind of punishment for my actions.

“Oh, Gwendalyn, what did he do to you?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and for a second, I thought I had imagined the gentleness. When no assault came, I opened my eyes. Anthony was squatting down in front of me, his hands fisting the fabric of his pants as he looked up at me.

My legs no longer wanted to support me as I slid completely to the floor, my back against the wall as I pulled my knees to my chest. I saw his hands twitch, as if he wanted to reach out and comfort me, but I was thankful for his restraint. My mind and body needed space, my emotions were everywhere between Matthew showing up and Anthony letting me kiss him. Closing my eyes again, I laid my forehead on my knees, attempting to take a deep breath to re-center myself.

“Gwendalyn, will you talk to me?” His voice, filled with concern, sounded a million miles away. He deserved an explanation, but I was scared. Would he think of me differently? Would I lose my job? I could feel a panic attack building as I struggled to get air into my lungs. My body began to shake with the exertion. “Gwendalyn, you need to focus on breathing, okay?” Anthony’s voice was still soft as I nodded my head but didn’t look up, not wanting to face him.

After a few minutes of focusing, my heart stopped racing, and it became easier to take in air. Slowly, I lifted my head up, looking at Anthony, who was still crouched in front of me.

“Who was he?” Anthony whispered.

“Matthew, my ex-fiancé,” I started. “The week before my interview with you, we had gotten into a… disagreement. I had walked in on him… with another woman… I got upset, and when I tried to leave, he…” I trailed off, not sure how to put what had happened that night into words.

“Was he physical with you?” Anthony didn’t hesitate with his question, as if he already knew the answer. All I could do was nod my head. I didn’t want to give Anthony all the details about my relationship with Matthew. The slaps when I said something he didn’t like. The grabbing when I tried to walk away. Anthony continued looking at me, urging me with his eyes to tell him as much as I wanted.

“When I left that night, I went to Ivy’s place… He showed up the next morning, but she kicked him out…” I focused on my hand as I spoke, the healed skin around my nails now torn to shreds once again. “It wasn’t enough, though… She left, and he broke in… He tried to…” I stopped, trying to decide how much to say. “He said he wanted to have fun… before he took me home.”

Looking up, I caught Anthony’s eyes, anger flashing across them before he blinked and it was gone. If it weren’t for the fists he was making, I would have told myself I imagined it. It triggered something inside me, the need to apologize and take blame. “Anthony, I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to find me. I don’t know how he found me,” I rambled defensively, the fact that he had been carefully listening to me this entire time without judgment lost on me.

Anthony reached out, hesitating at first before gently placing his hand on top of mine. His thumb made small circles on my hand. I focused on the movement, using it as a grounding point to keep myself from spinning into another panic attack. When Anthony spoke, I continued my fixation on our hands. “Gwendalyn, none of this is your fault. You don’t need to apologize, okay?” I nodded my head, but there was always going to be a part of me that would blame myself.

“I’ll understand if you want me to leave,” I whispered. Anthony needed to know that I wouldn’t blame him for doing what he thought would be best for him and Ollie. I loved that little boy with every fiber of my being, but if Matthew was trying to lay some twisted claim on me, there was no way I could keep him safe.

“Absolutely not.” He sounded surprised, as if the mere mention of my leaving was absurd.

“But Ollie? You have to put him first…” I trailed off, his hand on top of mine stopped.

“I am putting him first, Gwendalyn. He’s done nothing but flourish since you arrived. If you left, he’d be heartbroken.” Fingers under my chin tilted back my head until my eyes met his. “You’re a part of our little family now, like it or not. We’ll figure this out, together.”

Panic was quickly replaced by hope. Before I could respond, the sound of little footsteps came into the kitchen. “Daddy, snack?”

Anthony dropped his hand from my chin, looking over his shoulder at Ollie. “Of course, figlio mio. Give me one minute.” He turned his attention back to me. “Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll spend some time with Oliver?”

Not giving me a chance to fight him on it, he took my hand before straightening himself and helping me off the floor. Once I was standing, he ran his fingers up my arm, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered just like this morning, his eyes searching mine before he let his hand fall and gestured with his head.

He turned, scooping up Oliver and tickling his sides as he made his way to the back door. Ollie’s giggles trailed behind them, and I could just make out Anthony talking to him as I walked out of the kitchen to the basement door. “How about ice cream?” I smiled to myself, knowing Ollie was going to love every moment of this unexpected time with his dad.

Once downstairs, I found myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror after going through the motions, getting everything I needed for a shower. The woman looking back at me was not someone I recognized. She was a little beaten and bruised around the edges, but there was something growing in the middle. A feeling of freedom and safety that hadn’t been felt in a long time.

There was still that voice in the back of my head. Could I trust him?