Saviour (Saviour #1)(42)



“What do you mean, go where at the weekend?” I'm totally confused, what am I missing

“I don't want you to move out of here and into the unit at the weekend. I want you to stay here, with me; if you want to?”

He’s speaking to me like I'm a child.

“You want me to move in here, with you, not the unit, here?” And it seems to be catching as I now sound like a child.

“Are you right?” he asks

“How many times do I need to repeat myself? Would you, like to move, in here, with me?”

Wow. Not what I was expecting. I'm lost for words, yes, it does happen, occasionally!





CHAPTER NINE


“Would you get me a drink please? It's a job and half getting up and down off these stools, they really weren't made with short people in mind” I'm waffling, talking complete nonsense as I try to compose myself. Gabe’s looking at me like I’m totally mad, he shakes his head slightly, he’s probably regretting more and more asking me to move in.

“What would you like to drink?”

“A glass of wine please”

He goes to the fridge and pour’s my drink and gets himself another beer. When he returns to the bench he leans on one elbow in front of me, his hand under his chin. I'm unnerved by his closeness to me and he knows it. I can see the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth as he watches me, my breathing getting heavier. I take a sip of my wine, there's barely enough room to tilt my glass the space between us is so small. His smile becomes more obvious as he awaits my response. I take a deep breath

“I left my husband less than a week ago, I have no money, no job, I have a shit load of issues and a husband who will be rampaging through the streets looking for me, once he realises what I've done today and you want me to move in here with you?”

He does the head tilt and blows out a sigh so big that it moves my hair as well as his own. “I’m fully aware of the facts Lauren, I know when you left your husband, and I know why you left him, I'm aware of your financial situation and your employment status. I'm beginning to realise that yes you are a bit of a mental case but is it any wonder, after what you've been through and just so you know, with regard to your husband, I don't give a flying f*ck about him or what he does. But apart from all of that, what I fail to see is what any of this has to do with our living arrangements. We are two consenting adults, we enjoy each other’s company and find each other physically attractive, where is the issue?”

“You make it sound very easy, like a list and I tick enough of the boxes, cold almost, no emotion involved and I don't understand, why me, why would you want me?”

“Lauren” He lets out another huff after he says my name; I’m pissing him off, I’m pissing me off so I’m really not surprised.

“You’re seriously starting to piss me off now”

Told ya!

“What do I need to say, how can I make you understand what I feel, there is nothing cold about us or me when your around and I assure you there are plenty of emotions involved, I've loved waking up with you these past few mornings, I've loved going to bed with you at night, I'm sorry if I've made the facts sound cold, I'm just stating ... Well, stating the facts. I don't want you to go off and live in that unit on your own, I want you to stay here with me, I want to keep you safe, away from Jason. I want you in my life; I want you to be a part of my life, tell me how to make this clearer and I’ll do it, I just want you, here, with me, all the time. I know it’s all happening a bit fast but so what, let’s just go with it, see where it takes us”

I don’t really process half of what he’s just told me before I open my mouth and why I say what I do next is beyond me.

“I will be safe, he's not a monster Gabe and in his own way, he does love me”

Why am I defending my husband?

“Lauren. Take a look at yourself, if he's not a monster, then why the f*ck are you sitting here battered and bruised, why did you run out of your home last Friday, in the middle of the night with just the clothes on your back, why did we sneak into his house while he was out this morning to get your stuff. If he's not a monster, why the f*ck are you still here, why haven't you gone back to him, f*ck Lauren you need to give your head a wobble and get the f*ck real. If you don't want to move in here with me, that's fine but do yourself a favour sweet heart and wake up to the fact, it’s not normal and it’s not right for a husband to hit his wife!”

He's so angry and right in my face and I know that everything he has just said is right but it’s so hard for me to accept and admit this, because if I do, what does it say about me, my marriage and the way I've lived my life the last quarter of a century? He drains his bottle and goes to the fridge; he pulls out the wine and tops up my glass, then pulls a whisky tumbler off the shelf and a bottle of bourbon out of the cupboard and pours a lot more than the standard shot.

Shit, whiskey in the day. This isn't good. I'm absolutely silent and can't even look at him. He lifts my chin so that I have no choice but to meet his eye. Just one finger, that's our only contact but it’s there, that tingle, that current and it hits me right between the legs, despite the drama, the tension and the conversation that's unfolding, this feeling, longing, need, whatever the f*ck it is, is overriding it all and I have to close my eyes for a second to try and compose myself.

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