17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Roxie
I think I slept a grand total of three hours last night.
When Lennox didn’t come out of his room after the … bath situation, I immediately went into panic mode.
Did I push him too far? Is he actually hurt? Is this more than physical? I didn’t have answers, and I acted on impulse.
Now, I’m sitting at the kitchen island, staring off into space waiting for Ivy and Lennox to wake up. My mind is running a mile a minute thinking about everything that happened last night.
Number one thing on my mind? Why this is the second time we’ve fallen asleep together in a month. The first time, we acted like nothing happened. Moved on like snuggling with your physical therapist and roommate is completely normal. This time? Separating everything seems impossible.
I wasn’t completely unaware that Lennox was having problems, obviously, but last night was the first time I’ve ever worried about him making it through the night .
It’s not that I think he would really do anything, but the despondence in his voice and the look in his eyes when I told him how strong he is broke my heart. He’s been putting on a mask, even with me. Contrary to what I thought, he is still hiding so much. I just wanted to do something.
“Mommy!” Ivy bounds into the kitchen, hugging my leg.
“Hey, Ivy Bug, how’d you sleep?” I rub her back, thoughts still firmly on Lennox.
“So good.” She sighs, content. “What’s for bweakfast?”
“What would you like for breakfast?” I ask. “Not from Grind Time,” I add because she’ll con her way into stopping there if I don’t.
She looks up at me with a pout, and I bite my lip to stop my laughter. “Ugh, how about waffles, I guess,” she grumbles.
“Waffles it is.” I get up and go to the oh-so-nutritious frozen waffles in the freezer, popping them into the toaster. I grab a handful of blueberries from the refrigerator to make myself feel better about at least offering a well-rounded breakfast.
Dropping off her plate where she now sits, I then turn to make myself some coffee. I haven’t heard a peep from Lennox’s room since I left in the early hours of the morning. It’s worrisome. While I’m debating checking in on him before I leave to drop off Ivy at school, a throat clears behind me.
Whipping around, I see a shy Lennox looking at me with curiosity. It appears we’re both unsure about where we stand.
“Good morning.” I nod, putting the ball in his court.
“Morning. Good morning, Ivy.” He turns to look at her with a genuine smile on his face.
“Good morning, Mr. Hutton. You’re up eawly today!” a bright-eyed Ivy says as she hops down from her stool. She grabs the step stool from its place next to the pantry and sets it up in front of the refrigerator. We’ve been working on this, so I stand by and watch, sure to offer a helping hand should she need one. After opening the refrigerator, she goes to grab the milk. It wobbles in her hand for a second, and I look at Lennox, whose eyebrows are nearly to his hairline.
Apparently, he’s only seen Ivy after she gets home from school because he looks shocked to see her independence.
“Need help?” Lennox grunts before softening his facial features.
“Nope! I can do this part. Mommy says I can’t cook on the stove yet unless she’s there, but I can make my own ceweal or get my milk. You want some, Mr. Hutton?” Ivy walks the milk over to the counter where her cup is, unfazed by Lennox’s struggle.
“It’s Lennox, Ivy. No more Mr. Hutton, please. And I’m good. Thank you for offering,” he says softly, still watching her with a keen eye.
She frowns at him once she moves the stool to the counter where her cup is. “Is Lennox a cool nickname? Mommy says to call you Mr. Hutton.”
“Lennox is my first name, like yours is Ivy,” he explains perfectly.
I watch on with pride for both of them.
“It sounds like a nickname… Do you have a nickname? Does Ledger or Willow or Wina call you something?”
“Lenny,” he says without hesitation.
It’s my turn to be shocked. After last night, I didn’t expect this level of openness from him even if it’s only by talking to Ivy. Her mischievous smirk tips the corner of her lips, signaling she got exactly what she wanted out of this interaction.
She pours her milk carefully, tongue sticking out as she finishes without spilling a drop. “I’m going to call you Lenny,” she proclaims triumphantly.
“Then I’ll call you Pixie,” Lennox replies without skipping a beat.
His inclusion of her, as well as giving her a nickname, has my heart racing in my chest. This simple interaction gives me hope that Lennox is okay after last night.
Ivy’s smile shines brighter than I’ve seen in a long time. But instead of feeling as excited as she is, I feel a sense of dread. There’s no guarantee we’re staying here. Getting close to the Huttons, specifically Lennox, will only break her heart.
“Alright, Bug. It’s time to get ready for school. Wrap up breakfast, and let’s get going.” I don’t want to focus on the what-ifs, the hopes. I need to stay realistic. Moving on with my day, not getting hung up on their budding friendship is the only way to do that. Lennox holds my gaze for a moment, and I give him a sad smile. Not because of last night, but because I can’t handle him being nicer to Ivy than he already is.
“How’s the leg feeling after yesterday?” I ask as I enter the kitchen after returning from dropping off Ivy. He’s walking gingerly to the coffee maker, so he has to be hurting. We’ll see how honest he decides to be today.
“Sore. The leg feels great, honestly, but my whole body is sore.” Understandable, considering not only the physical toll yesterday but the mental too.
“Yeah,” I cringe. “I figured that would happen. I want to try another walk later if you’re up for it. It’ll help with the soreness, and we can set you up with another Epsom bath after.”
“I think I’d like that,” he admits softly.
We’re both conveniently brushing over the events of last night, and I’m content to run with it. If I’m forced to confront my feelings about it, I’ll be forced to admit things I’d rather ignore for as long as possible. Super healthy, I’m aware.
What I do instead is broadcast how happy I am that he’s pushing through. The smile on my face is sincere, happy that last night didn’t derail all his progress.
“Okay, well, I need to work with a patient this morning, and then we need to do your exercises. Then maybe I can stop by Grind Time and get us a panini for lunch before we try walking again. How does that sound?” I ask before bringing my coffee mug to my lips with both hands. I’m feeling awkward in my own skin because I want to check in with him, make sure he’s okay after last night, but it seems like the wrong move. On the surface, he’s projecting a mostly put-together version of himself. I’m scared to say anything and have it all crashing down.
This is why I don’t make friends when we move places. This is why I stay the consummate professional. Because if I get too close, people get hurt. I get hurt, and I can’t afford to get hurt. Things are already so different with Lennox, what with us living together, and the lines are naturally blurred. I need to remember why I stay disconnected from people because Lennox has the ability to destroy me if I let him .
Helping him get out of this dark phase in his life is all that I can do. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I can text Oakley so he can have it ready,” he suggests.
“Sounds great!” I say, too over-the-top with fake excitement. I need to get out of here and get my bearings.
I can feel the heat of his stare as I put my mug in the sink and dash to my room.
Lunch comes quickly, and before I know it, we’re sitting at the dining room table.
“God, why does everything he makes taste so damn good?” I moan.
“No one knows. He used to be a U.S. Marshal, and cooking was his hobby.” He smiles, but it disappears just as soon.
There are things that bring up the bad memories for him, and this seems to be one of them. I don’t know the full story, but it seems like Oakley is closely tied to the entire Tennison case, and I can imagine it’s hard for Lennox to see him as often as he does. Anything tied to that time period is bound to cause some unwanted things to pop up in his head.
Shoving the last bit in my mouth, I choose to not address it. I don’t think it would do me good anyway.
“So, ready for a walk?” I wipe my hands on my leggings before collecting our trash and standing to throw it away.
“Yes. No.” He sighs. “Yes, but it’s going to suck. ”
I chuckle at that because, more than likely, he’s right. We haven’t been doing a lot of strength training yet, and it shows with our added activity.
“Well, we won’t know until we do it.” I nod to the front door, watching as he stands up slowly.
Before long, we’re heading down his long driveway. I want to push it further today, see how far we can go, and hopefully that means a couple of laps of the driveway, not the one loop like yesterday. It’d be a major win for his overall progress.
“How are you feeling right this minute?” I ask, hoping to gauge where his head is at, especially after last night. He may be scared to try this again so soon, even though he told me he’s okay physically.
“Umm, good, I think. I want to push through the mental barrier, even though I’m not sure if I can,” he says with an earnestness I’ve yet to hear from him. It’s promising and leads me to believe the breakdown yesterday may have done some good.
“Great. I know it’ll be tough to start with, but you’ve made huge strides in your treatment, so I want to step it up. You’ve always been active, so getting you back to that is important. I think it’ll help with the mental stuff too,” I add quietly. I don’t want to say the wrong thing with him, and I don’t want to draw more attention to the obvious battle he’s been working through.
“You’re probably right,” he says with an introspective look on his face.
My heart soars at the growth in such a short amount of time.
“Then let’s do this.” I walk ahead of him, careful to give him the freedom to go at his own pace and not rush him. Keeping his independence is more important now than ever before.
He’s slow to begin, but he gathers speed the closer we get to the end of his driveway .
I pause to wait for him. “How’re you feeling?” I prod.
“Good. Really good.” He sounds shocked, and I grin.
“Sweet. Let’s head back up to the house and do another check-in. If you feel good, we’ll do another loop.”
His eyes widen as his gaze turns up to his house. It’s a long driveway, and I can imagine it feels daunting, but he’s capable. I just need to get him to see it.
He takes in a deep breath, blowing out a steady stream before turning back to me. “Let’s go.”
His determination is inspiring to watch. He tackles the length of the driveway like an old pro and immediately turns around to start another lap. This time, I follow him.
He stops when we get to the edge of his driveway, beaming at me like he just won a marathon. In reality, for as long as he hasn’t done physical activity, it kind of is.
“Well, shit, no need to show off now,” I joke as I join him.
His laughter soothes the anxiety I’ve been shoving down all day.
“I got on a roll, apparently. It feels so fucking good.” He holds out his arms and tilts his head to the sky, taking in all that is Bluebell Falls.
It gives me time to look him over. The brace still covering his leg does nothing to deter from his looks. He’s still scruffy as hell. The overgrown beard is starting to go curly at the ends, and his hair is past his ears now. It makes me wonder how he usually cuts his hair. Does he usually have a beard? Is he clean-shaven? Are his lips soft under their hiding spot behind his mustache? No, bad Roxie. I swear this man is more distracting than a bee buzzing around my head.
Tires sound down the road, drawing my attention. I squint into the sun, cursing the fact that I didn’t bring my sunglasses .
“If that’s one of my siblings, I’m going to lose my mind,” Lennox murmurs from beside me.
We watch as the car slows down a little before reaching us.
“Nope, not them. No one drives a car. Whoever this is, is going to get an unwelcome surprise if they decide to stop,” he grumbles.
I can’t help smirking at his annoyance before looking at the car again. I can’t really see much, but I get a flash of dark brown eyes, almost black, and a shiver works its way down my back.
No. It can’t be.
“Roxie?” Lennox’s voice sounds like it’s underwater. “Roxie!”
I shake my head as I follow the car driving away. “Yeah?” I ask, refocusing on Lennox.
“Are you okay? Did you know them?”
I hesitate. Do I know Greg? Absolutely. But one flash of those eyes does not mean it was Greg. It could simply be someone who has dark eyes. It’s not like that’s uncommon.
“Umm, no. Just reminded me of someone I used to know,” I hedge.
He stares at me for a second before slowly nodding. “I think I’m ready to call it. Is that okay?” he asks instead of pushing me for more.
I count to five to recenter my head before turning my smile on him. “That’s perfect. Let’s go.”