30. He Made Some Progress
He Made Some Progress
Toby
Gwen tiptoed around me like I was broken glass. Not scared, just cautious.
Good ol’ reliable Toby wasn’t so predictable anymore. I’d screwed up the Ian situation. I’d squeezed her way too tight in the first hug she’d blessed me with in longer than I wanted to remember.
That hug.
Gwen gave a damn about me. It was a shock from a fully charged love defibrillator. She’d zapped me back to life. But rocking up on her doorstep to create more drama was the last thing she needed.
I hadn’t planned it that way. My brain had switched to autopilot after Judy had shoved me in the front seat of my car. I hadn’t even registered the trip across the bridge until I’d shifted into park on our driveway.
And it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go.
Tanya was living her own life in Canberra, and even if an asteroid hurtled toward Earth, I refused to be in the same room as my mother. There was no one I trusted more than Gwen, but I was supposed to prove to her that I was changing to be a better man, not stacking another burden on her shoulders.
So, when she’d insisted that I come inside, I’d said no.
Twice.
Now, after asking for the third time, her hands landed on her hips. She’d had enough of me. “Stop being stubborn.” She pointed to the open door. “Kitchen. Now.”
My shoulders slumped, feeling small even though I towered over her, I trudged inside.
Gwen was first down the hallway, but she didn’t charge ahead with the confident stride I was used to seeing. Every so often, she flicked a glance over her shoulder. Her forehead wrinkled. She was worried. That was my fault, too.
“I’ll get something for your hand,” she said.
I nodded, and her wary eyes pinned me one final time before she headed to the fridge. Nervous energy shot through my veins. I hovered around the kitchen island, unsure what to do with myself. The fruit bowl was a good distraction. I started rearranging Noah’s prized bananas.
Gwen tugged open the freezer door and bent over, rummaging in the bottom drawer. “Where are they… Oh!” She reached over to slip a white tea towel off the oven door, folded it around a bag of frozen peas, and passed it to me like a perfectly wrapped gift.
I mumbled, “Thanks.”
The bruising and swelling on my hand weren’t that bad, but I pressed the peas down on my knuckles anyway.
Gwen’s lips stretched. A grimace or a smile, I wasn’t sure.
In the old days, she probably would’ve paced the kitchen or rage-scrubbed the sink as she hurled advice at me that would’ve been helpful if I hadn’t already done whatever dumb thing I’d done.
Now, she was quiet.
No cleaning. No advice. Her hip pressed into the countertop, and she tilted her head, watching me. My nerves sparked. I stacked the pears haphazardly in the fruit bowl. I didn’t know what else to do.
Gwen sighed. “I think you should stay tonight.”
A knot twisted in my gut. This wasn’t a “Hey, come hang out, and maybe we’ll screw around later” kind of invitation. She was worried.
“Gwen, this wasn’t a trick to get invited back into the house.”
“I know.”
“I’m fine.”
Her laugh was short. “Toby, you’re not even close to fine.”
I fussed around, readjusting the frozen peas on my hand. Anything was easier than seeing the deep line pinching between Gwen’s eyes. She wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t fine. I was in some dark limbo that I couldn’t laugh off. That didn’t mean forcing myself on her, though.
“I know you’re uncomfortable with me staying over,” I replied.
Gwen’s fingers drummed the countertop, thinking over my words. “Yeah,” she eventually admitted. “But I need to have eyes on you to know you’re okay.”
“I’m sorry, Gwen. I shouldn’t have said—”
“Yes, you absolutely should have. You and I aren’t good at talking about important things, but we’re trying, aren’t we?
” She didn’t quite smile, but the hint of one still reassured me.
“No matter what’s happening between us, I still care about you.
It doesn’t mean I forgive you or that I have any clue what happens next, but I do care.
I want you to stay tonight.” She grimaced. “But not, um—”
“Understood.”
I spared her having to say out loud that I needed to be banished to the guest room or the couch. Honestly, I would’ve camped in a tent out back if that was the only option. The chance to be home with Gwen and Noah—to be useful—for a whole day released the crushing squeeze around my chest.
“I know you’re working,” I said. “I’m sure I can do plenty of things around the house to keep busy.”
I found more than plenty.
The house was quieter than a museum with Gwen locked away in the study and Noah at daycare. I dug my overnight bag out of the car, showered, and changed into something not covered in the blood of my alleged best friend.
Time to get busy.
I emptied the trash, raked the leaves out front, oiled the front gate, and caught up on the laundry— so much laundry.
Noah had a more active social life than royalty, but I stood there, staring at the hamper in disbelief.
How did one baby go through so many clothes?
Oh, well. If I was doing it, I was doing it right.
I got out my phone and watched two tutorials about washing and drying baby pajamas so they came out extra soft and fluffy.
I was fine plugging through the long to-do list until I stopped to take a breath. Something about standing on the patch of lawn out the back punched me in the gut.
I was home, but for how long?
Should I be back home?
Gwen didn’t want me here. She didn’t want me at all…
And the thoughts spiraled—down, down, darker and darker until my mind was at the bottom of a pit.
Desperate, my pulse thumping, I looked over my shoulder.
I wanted to anchor myself to someone. I wanted to hold Gwen.
I wanted to squash Noah in a big, tickly hug.
I wanted my family back. The air thinned, my chest straining to drag in each shallow breath.
“Gwen, I’m so fucking sorry,” I said to the empty backyard. “I will do better.”
The vow may have been made to the grass at my feet, but that wouldn’t stop me from honoring it.
I pulled out my phone, called Dylan’s office, and scheduled some extra appointments.
Stopping by once a week wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t like I didn’t have time now that I was on my “vacation.” A small step, but it was enough for me to wander into the kitchen with my chin up.
I propped my phone against an empty mug and tapped into a podcast about counting macros. White noise filled the background, softening the rough edges of the silence, while I scrolled through the baby-friendly fish and chips recipe Zach had sent me.
Gwen flew into the kitchen. Every one of her stomps to the fridge was punctuated with a different curse word.
“You all good?” I asked her.
“Everything will be just fine and dandy when I strangle that man with my bare hands.”
“Your brother?”
Gwen stuck her head in the fridge, but I still heard the huff.
“Who else?” Her voice was muffled as she dove deeper for whatever she was hunting.
“He and I will be having words when I’m next in the office.
He wanted me to proof a preliminary prospectus in two hours.
” She barked a short laugh. “I don’t freaking think so.
I don’t even understand what a preliminary prospectus is! ”
My eyes narrowed on the carrot I was hacking with my knife. I’d already had a day of taking out jerks who’d done wrong by Gwen. Liam and I stood roughly eye to eye, and I had more than a decade of anger to direct at that guy, so I wasn’t above taking a whack at him, too.
I sighed.
Gwen wouldn’t want that. I hadn’t always been patient with her work problems before, and she wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I knew she was over the moon to have that ungrateful bastard of a brother back in her life, even if he was a colossal asshat.
I needed to trust she could handle this situation without me rushing in to take care of it for her.
So, I kept my feet firmly stuck behind the kitchen counter and let the wave of Neanderthal dumbass wash over me without losing my cool.
“You give him hell, doll,” I said.
Gwen’s head popped out of the fridge. “Oh, I will.” She grinned. “Don’t you worry.” And with a squishy tube of cookie dough in her hand, she disappeared back to the study.
I didn’t see her again until late in the afternoon when I knocked on the doorframe and stuck my head in the study.
Gwen was jammed in a chair, still in her yoga pants and cute pink socks, a mug in one hand and her index finger furiously jabbing at the keys on her laptop as she gulped a sip of coffee.
Her eyebrows rose when she looked up. “Oh, hey.”
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“No, please, do .” She put her mug on the coaster and stretched her arms above her head. “I feel like I’ve been a lump in this chair all day.”
“Busy?”
“Eh, not exactly. I’m just behind the eight ball on a few things because I’m not into all this corporate junk.”
“Corporate?” I made a stink face. “ Boring . What about the blood and gore and crime scene photos?”
“Right?” Gwen laughed.
“If you’re still in the zone, do you want me to pick up NoBo?”
Gwen shook her head. “I should take a break to clear my head.”
“We could go together?”
Her eyes widened. I’d overstepped the mark.
“Or not,” I mumbled.
“No, that’s not—” She raised a palm to let me know she was collecting her thoughts. “I’m not good at this whole being honest thing. I— wow —this is hard.” She whooshed out a breath. “I want to pick Noah up on my own. Not because of you, though, if that makes sense.”
“Not…really?”
Gwen fidgeted with the edge of the coaster, carefully locking her gaze on the mug.
“Dropping Noah off at daycare was hard for me this morning. Actually, this whole situation has been a lot harder than I imagined. I thought going back to work and being away from Noah would be easier than… well… this .” Her breaths turned to a shudder.
“I have a feeling I’m going to need a big cry on the way home. ”
My heart squished under the weight of seeing her so vulnerable. This wasn’t like her. She was hurting big time. “Oh, Gwen.” I stepped forward, but her palm shot up again.
“Stay right there, big guy. I’m okay. Now . If you come with me, I’ll try to put on a brave face and hold everything in, but…” Her lips turned up in a shaky smile. “Maybe we’re both trying to do things differently?”
“Yeah.” My smile wasn’t shaky at all. This was great. “We are. You just want to get out all the feels?”
She nodded. “I think I need that. Is that okay?”
“More than okay.”
I wasn’t imagining the warmth in her eyes when she softly asked, “Are you going to be okay when I’m gone?”
“Yeah.” For the first time in a long time, I believed the words when they came out of my mouth. “I’m going to be fine.”