Page 56 of Unconventionally, Elle
"No. His wife died before he worked for us, and he didn't have any family close by, so he always stayed at our house. He has his own room and lives there. I'm not sure if that's common or not, but for us, it was nice because he was always there when our parents weren't. He's the reason Emma and I aren't monsters."
I considered Barrett for a minute. "Hmm, that's interesting." My hands stopped massaging his legs while his words lingered in the air, pulling my focus away.
"What is?" Barrett was looking back at the TV.The Officewas playing because he knew that I could still write even with it on the television. He laughed at something Michael Scott did and then turned his gaze back to mine.
"Well, I guess the fact that here I was, thinking you had a perfect family, ya know? Mom and dad and all that. And I was the one who wasn't 'normal.' My grandparents adopted me and raised me--not normal. But your butler raised you and your sister. It just goes to show, things aren't always what they appear."
His lips pulled to one side, and he crossed his arms over his chest and appraised me with his quirky grin. "Elle, you'resomething else. Jealous ofmyfamily dynamic? Oh my God. Normal?" He snorted and shook his head.
I was confused.
"Yeah," he said with a soft chuckle, "our butler raised us, but things are certainly never as they appear. And just so you know"--his face became serious and firm--"you are most certainly normal. Just because your grandparents raised you doesn't mean you didn't have a real family."
I looked away, shy about the conversation. It wasn't easy taking compliments or validation. That's probably why Tina tried to do it as much as possible in our sessions. Even if I knew I wasn't abnormal, sometimes it still felt that way. Not to have the perfect family, the mom and dad who were always there, it made holidays like Mother's Day and Father's Day a real bitch.
"Very true," I replied slowly. "But I still feel differently about it. There was no mom and no dad." Then I whispered, "Barrett, they didn't want me. They left me." My shoulders sagged and I hung my head as the words floated into existence.
His face changed instantly and became protective and angry. He took his legs off my lap and sat on one as he scooted closer to me on the couch. Then he gently placed his arm around my shoulders and hugged me toward him. "Elle, fuck your mom and dad." His voice was firm and strong. "Your grandparents loved you, and that's all that matters. They wanted you, they loved you, and as far as I'm concerned, they were your parents. If anyone else says otherwise, then fuck them too."
I looked up, tears glistening on my cheeks.
"I'm serious. They loved you, Elle. And I love you. And I'm not going anywhere." His grip tightened and I relaxed into his embrace.
"I love you," I whispered with my eyes closed. I wanted to drown in his masculine scent and strong arms. So safe. I felt him kiss the top of my head.
"Did I tell you I have a surprise for us tomorrow? Assuming you want to take the day off writing, I think you'll like what I have planned." He rested his head on mine and took a deep inhale. "Also, did I ever tell you that I love the way you smell? Weird, right? But you smell so good, like coconut and something, I don't know, but it's just so good." He chuckled, and his chest expanded under my head. I sat up with narrowed playful eyes.
"What? Another surprise? What are you up to, Barrett Henry?" My voice was incredulous and sensual.
"You'll have to wait and see," he whispered into my ear.
Then he kissed me.
35
Seven years ago
Jude was heavily involved in the BP litigation from the Deepwater Horizon spill. I rarely saw him and woke up alone in our bed most days. I was to blame too. Work was my priority. Always.
My morning chats with Grandma Di were shorter, and lately I'd been antsy to hang up so I could get to my desk. Whenever I talked to her, she asked if I was writing. I wasn't. For her to ask if I was writing, it made my stomach hollow out. Iwantedto write, but I wanted to make her proud and to be financially secure. I wasn't brave enough to be a writer, and every time she asked, I'd gently change the subject and ask how she was feeling instead. She never remembered telling me at the beginning of the conversation anyway.
Tonight, I was alone at the dinner table whileFriendsplayed in the background. Around 12:30 a.m. I turned the TV off and went into our bedroom. I lay in bed under a soft goose-down comforter and tried to turn my brain off; I couldn't stop thinking. No matter how hard I meditated or literally tried to count sheep, I couldn't doze off. I was staring at the ceilingand watching the fan rotate when I finally heard the key in our front door. I turned my head to look at my phone--two a.m. His footsteps echoed across the hardwood floors as he went into the kitchen. Then he came toward me.
"Are you awake?" he whispered, tiptoeing to my side of the bed.
"Mm," I murmured, staring at the ceiling again. He perched on the edge of the bed next to my right arm.
"Hello, beautiful," he whispered and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and allowed a soft smile to ghost over my lips. He stood back up and walked slowly to his side of the bed. I watched him take off his shirt, then strip down to his boxers. With a loud groan, he lifted the covers and crawled into bed.
I turned on my side to face him in the middle of the bed. He extended his arm, signaling for me to nestle into his embrace. I couldn't resist.
"I miss you," I whispered with my head on his solid chest. "We keep missing each other." I kissed the inside of his shoulder and snuggled closer, craving his warmth and affection.
He sighed deeply and traced small circles on my exposed arm. "I know. I miss you too. This case is draining me, but I'm hoping it won't be like this much longer." He focused on the ceiling and avoided my gaze.
"Fingers crossed," I murmured.
He tilted his head to the side and kissed the top of my head again.
