Push

13. She Misjudged the Situation

She Misjudged the Situation

Gwen

My home had turned into Grand Central Station. The doorbell had rung more times in the last month than it had in the three years since we’d bought the place.

I peeked at the baby snoozing on my chest. His thumb dangled, almost slipping from plump lips, but he didn’t stir. Tucking my hand under his butt, I ungracefully maneuvered myself off the couch a bit like a drunk crab and headed for the front door.

Ian was on the other side. Grinning, he held up a brown paper bag and a cardboard tray with two coffees.

“Hey, you. I come bearing—” His eyes widened at the sleeping baby, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Am I interrupting?”

Shaking my head, I hoisted Noah higher on my shoulder. “I was about to pop him down for his morning sleep.”

“Impeccable timing then. I’m here with gifts. Your favorite.” He held up the bag. “Avocado toast with extra feta cheese.” The cardboard tray with two coffees was showcased next. “Fancy cappuccinos from the café down the road.”

A wary eye on his gifts, I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Ian, I appreciate you, but… This is too much.”

“Gwenny, come on. You never treat yourself. It’s one of the throwbacks to growing up poor.” He shrugged and tried to downplay tough memories with another smile. “I get it.” He jiggled the bag. “What do you say?”

My gaze was almost longing. Toast and a proper coffee did sound nice. “Okay… Just this once.” I motioned for him to hurry inside. “No work today?” I bumped the door closed with my hip.

“Uh, no…” His eyes shifted to the empty hooks dotting the hallway. I’d stripped all the reminders of my wedding and the silly holiday snaps off the walls and tucked them under a bag of old baby clothes in the garage. “Sometimes, there are more important things than work.”

“You bailed?” My heart sank from the guilt. “Please tell me this visit isn’t the only reason.”

“Gwen, I blew up your life—”

“You didn’t blow up anything. Toby made his choices.”

Even though Ian managed a tight smile, I could see the effort it took.

“I don’t want to ruin your friendship,” I said. “I certainly don’t expect you to pick sides. Don’t feel like you have to put yourself in a difficult situation, okay?”

His smile faded. “I think Tobes made that choice for us, too.” His chest caved, the bright facade at the door replaced by a man who looked almost as broken as I felt.

I swallowed, the lump barely shifting in my throat, and patted Ian’s arm with my free hand. “I’ll put this little guy down. If you’re not here when I come back—”

“I’ll be here.”

And he was.

By the time I wandered into the kitchen, he’d arranged the breakfast on plates, the cutlery neatly set out, and he was busy unpacking the dishwasher. I plonked the baby monitor beside my coffee.

“I’ll have to get you back tomorrow,” I said, only half joking.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Ian’s grin was sheepish. “I know this whole… situation can’t be easy for you. Toby might’ve checked out a long time ago, but I know it’s hard when there’s only one person carrying the load of a whole household.”

I scooted onto the stool. My head ducked, careful to hide the punch of his words in the center of my chest.

Ian saw me.

Exhaustion ached deep in my bones from constantly being on . On watch. On demand. Just… on . All the time.

Everything had been on me since I’d thrown Toby out of the house.

My morning coffee on the back porch and the glorious baby-free shower I’d enjoyed before he disappeared for work—poof, gone.

The precious moments of extra sleep I’d snuck after flapping a clumsy hand at Toby, telling him to try settling Noah first, were a distant memory too.

I could haul fifty diapers in the bags hanging under my eyes. I was that tired.

Ian edged closer. “My mum did it on her own. I saw how hard it was for her… The stress over little things… Not having anyone to talk to.” His voice lowered. “I don’t want that for you or Noah. I want to be there for you.” The tip of his index finger grazed my arm. “In every way I can.”

A nervous flutter in my chest forced me to clear my throat. “Thanks.” I held up my coffee. “Cheers?”

Was it strange to toast to breakfast? Any distraction was better than trying to breathe whenever Ian’s gaze locked on me.

The burn of his hazel eyes was intense. Had he ever looked at me like this before?

Once… Maybe twice… The day of the wedding…

When else? My hands stopped twisting the napkin when his eyes crinkled in a soft smile.

“To new beginnings?” he said, lifting his coffee.

“It’s a classic for a reason.” I tapped my cup against his. “Cheers!”

“Cheers.”

We sipped our coffee in silence. My eyes darted around the kitchen, unsure where to look, and my mouth was empty of any meaningful conversation.

Ian rearranged his cutlery two times before letting out a groan. “Tell me this feels awkward.”

Thank God it wasn’t only me. “It feels incredibly awkward.”

He laughed. “Okay, I’m glad it’s not just me. Are we out of practice doing this solo?” He tilted his head. “We have a lot in common. I’m sure we can talk without all the jokes and the…the…”

“Toby?”

He managed a heartier laugh this time. “Yeah.” The tension in his shoulders relaxed as he took another sip of his coffee. “Are you reading anything good at the moment? Did you finish that new mystery novel?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“What’s your final rating?”

“I guessed the murderer on page three. One out of five stars. How’s your Cormac McCarthy era heading?”

“Slowly. Everything’s so…” He waved a hand, trying to think of the word.

“Bleak?”

“Nailed it.”

“I did try to warn you.”

“I needed to understand the pain for myself so we can properly tear his literary genius to shreds. Recommend me something. I trust your opinion more than just about anyone else. What are you reading now?”

The conversation was easy. It always was with Ian. Was that…okay? “I’ve been sneaking in a few chapters of a new biography.” I tapped a restless finger on the counter.

“Do tell.”

“It’s about Martha Stewart. I thought it might be an inspiring…book…for balancing….” My voice hitched, but I fought through the emotion threatening to overwhelm me. “For balancing a career and family. She’s a bit less nurturing than I…” I fought the wobble of my chin. “Than I thought…”

A pitiful wave washed over me, and the tears started. Panicked, I swiped at my face. Ian jumped off the stool, and his hand lowered into the curve of my spine. That soft touch only made the tears fall faster.

“Oh, Gwenny…” he murmured.

I scrubbed at my cheeks. “Is it okay to talk about books like nothing’s wrong? My whole life… Everything …” I sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I covered my face and forced in deeper breaths to recover some of my dignity.

“You’re hurting because a person you care about hurt you.”

“I’m stronger than this.”

“You’re stronger than anyone I know. And smart—”

A hoarse laugh hiccupped out of me. “And capable. And hardworking. Great. Parroting a list of my best qualities is cold comfort when my husband passed me over for someone younger and sexier and—”

“You’re beautiful.”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“Plenty of men think that.” When had his voice lowered to that whisper by my ear? “I think that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please .” I didn’t need Ian stroking my ego to feel better.

“I think you’re so beautiful, Gwen. I’ve always thought that.” I shifted my gaze, and pleading hazel eyes stared back at me, far too close. “I could show you.”

“Wha-what?”

“Let me show you.” This time, Ian’s touch was more deliberate. The drag of his fingertips left a trail of goosebumps down my arm.

I pushed my palm into his chest. “Ian, I—”

“Let me show you.”

I shot off the stool. I didn’t get far. His hand clamped a little too tight around my arm.

“This isn’t right,” I said, scrabbling for the edge of the counter to put some distance between us. “Toby’s your friend.”

“I don’t know if we can be friends after he hurt you. Besides…” Ian smirked. “It’s not like he has much time for me when he has his new girlfriend to entertain.”

My eyes widened. “Toby said he doesn’t…doesn’t talk to Kayleigh any…anymore…” I cleared my throat to stop the emotion from slurring my words. “She’s on the other side of the clinic now.”

Ian gave a slow shake of his head. “I know you’ve seen all the shit she posts, and I know you’re not stupid enough to buy the weak excuses he comes up with to explain them all away.”

My heart shattered all over again. Toby had been saying and doing all the right things. I was nowhere near forgiving him, but he’d impressed me with his effort. I’d honestly thought he was trying.

“Why would he keep lying to me?”

“Why do you think, Gwenny?”

“The…the…money?” His trust fund. The house. All the money wrapped up in the clinic. There was no way Toby’s mother wasn’t in his ear about protecting himself if we divorced—she’d certainly had plenty to say when we’d married.

A reluctant nod from Ian confirmed my fears.

“I’ve never cared about the money,” I whispered. “No matter what terrible things Sarah says about me, it was never about the inheritance for me.”

“I know.”

“I only ever loved him.”

“And I wish he still felt the same way about you. I do.” Ian’s arm curled around my waist, and he pulled me close, his cheek pressed against my hair. “You deserve to be with someone who loves you. Hopelessly.” Soft lips kissed my temple.

I wriggled. “Ian, stop—”

“You deserve nothing less than devotion.” He brushed a kiss over my cheek.

“Show Toby you deserve better.” His hand cradled my jaw, angling my face until his lips hovered above mine, the mix of mint and strong coffee scrambling my senses.

“Show him, Gwen. Kiss me—just once—and Kay won’t win this time. ”

I feathered uncertain fingertips over his. I didn’t want Kayleigh to win. “O-okay.” I ignored my heart slamming against my ribs and leaned closer.

Ian’s lips melted into mine. My eyes widened. He was only the second man to kiss me. His thumb stroked my cheek, his mouth soft but insistent in what I think was an expert kiss, but I had no benchmark other than the memory of Toby’s tingly, possessive mouth.

“That’s it,” Ian urged me in a whisper. “Kiss me again, beautiful.”

His lips landed harder this time, his tongue sneaking into my mouth. I gasped. My hand landed on his chest, and I pushed to end it. He didn’t budge. His grip tightened around my jaw to keep me close.

I twisted my face. “Ian, I—that’s—”

“One more.” Jagged breaths panted against my skin, and his hard body flattened against me— all of him hard. His hand clamped around my backside and dragged me closer. “You really are flawless.”

I stood frozen on the spot, my eyes darting around the room, desperately searching for an escape route while his mouth devoured me.

Cold fingertips inched along my bottom, tracing the bare skin that edged the elastic of my unsexy mama panties.

How had I not noticed Ian’s hand creeping under my dress?

I yelped, but his relentless kiss muffled the sound.

Ian groaned. “Oh, Gwen…” Urgent lips found a new home on my neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed about being inside you.” His palm squeezed the bare skin of my backside too hard.

In my silent panic, I was twelve again. My mind turned hazy. The memory of my brother’s icy glare as he’d shaken me to make sure I paid attention to his back-alley wisdom blocked the fear ricocheting down my spine.

“And when a boy forces you into a corner, what do you do?”

“Liam! No boy will—”

“What do you do when no one comes to save you, clever Gwen?”

The tremor in my hands stopped. Liam had instructed me to play dirty. Gouge their eyes out with my fingernails… Jab their throat… Kick them in the balls…

I jerked my knee up as hard as I could.

“Fuck!” Ian buckled over, clutching the front of his pants, his face contorted in an agonized gasp.

Horrified, my hands flew to cover my mouth. “Sorry!” I shuffled back to a safer distance.

He bellowed his pain at the ceiling.

“Sorry!”

My hand fumbled over cold stainless steel for the handle of the freezer. I yanked open the door, grabbed a bag of frozen corn, and tossed it at him. Still bent over, he glared at me. The bag hit the floor.

“I’m so sorry. I just—” I grabbed a bag of peas this time and sort of shoved it at him. “Please. Just—” Tears streaked down my cheeks.

“Gwen.” It was more like a grunt than a word. “I’m—I’m not mad.”

“Please. I’m sorry. But please go.”

“I know this is hard for you.”

“Go!” My shrill scream shocked us both.

Ian lifted shaking palms. “I’ll go.” Not quick enough. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He turned back to apologize again before he disappeared through the doorway.

Finally, alone, I slid down the cabinets, collapsing in a mess of tears, my body crumbling into a ball under the weight of the sobs.

My life had unraveled. Everything was a mess.

I was as bad as Toby. I’d kissed his best friend. Ian had…had…

Oh, God.

My phone trembled in my hand. Toby’s name stared back at me.

I wanted to message him. My constant. I needed his big, strong arms around me, his soft laugh by my ear as he whispered some silly joke to stop me from fixating on the terrible thing that had happened in the one place I thought I was safe.

But Toby was gone.

He’d made his choice, and it hadn’t been me.

I scrubbed the tears from my eyes with unforgiving hands.

Enough of that .

A shaky breath, and I was back on my feet. My legs wobbled, but I growled at myself to stand tall. I lifted my chin. Precious years with Toby had lulled me into a false sense of security. I’d been training for this moment my entire life before I met him. I could do this on my own.

I shuffled to the dishwasher and flicked the latch. Time to finish stacking. I’d wipe the counters down next. Then, I’d fold some laundry. Maybe I could take Noah for a walk in the park when he woke up…

Like a proper mum.

And the day went on as if nothing had ever happened.