Chapter 24

As I calmed, Jack finally relaxed and came up the last few steps, helping me back to my feet as he did.

"You okay?" he asked.

I shivered against him but nodded.

"Thank you. For showing up when you did. I don't know what?—"

"Shhh, it's all right," he replied, cutting me off and helping me along the hallway. "I got here. And you're safe now."

He helped me open my door, my hands shaking too much to grip my keys and get them in the lock. Immediately, he escorted me over to the sofa and sat us down together.

"Do we need to call the police or something?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"No. I'm pretty sure it won't happen again. He was only being shitty because the papers got wind of me staying at your hotel last night. And…" I trailed off as I realized I wasn't supposed to be seeing him until the following morning.

"You came back early," I said.

"Yeah. We were done, and I was about to check into a hotel there when I realized I could still drive here in time. Just because my agent had booked a hotel in London didn't mean I had to stay in London. That okay?" he asked, his gaze searching my face for reassurance.

"Of course," I replied as I nodded. "You pretty much just became my knight in shining armor. I'm more than okay with you coming back early."

"Fantastic." Jack stroked a stray lock of hair off my face and smiled.

I couldn't bring myself to relax, my body still tense. I shuddered as I thought about what might have happened if Jack hadn't arrived when he did. I had a bunch of questions and so many things I wanted to talk to him about, but I couldn't think about anything but how scared I'd felt as Greg had tried to haul me down the stairs.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" Jack asked a moment later, putting his arm around me. "Is he going to be a problem? I guess you knew him."

"He's my ex."

"Your ex. Your husband?"

"I'd just signed the divorce papers and come back here. Thought it was all over. He must have followed me. I… I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't turned up when you did."

Jack frowned, shifting so he could get a better look at me.

"I thought you and your ex had drifted apart over time."

"Yes, that's?—"

"No. That's not the reaction of a man you've drifted apart from. And…he didn't know where you lived. You're hiding from him, aren't you?"

I nodded, suddenly unable to look at Jack. Shame filled me, making me feel awful. This was exactly what I hadn't wanted anyone to know. Men who knew about this sort of thing could take advantage of it, too. Or judge me. I wasn't an abused wife. I was stronger than that.

Jack got up and walked away for a moment, putting distance between us and confirming my suspicions.

"It was only one time," I said. "I wasn't going to stay in a relationship where he thought he could bash me around."

"Those bruises?" Jack turned to face me again but kept the distance between us. "The day we met. He gave you those bruises, didn't he? They weren't because you fell and hurt yourself."

"No, they weren't. I just… I didn't want anyone to know. It's not even cited in the divorce. Not properly. It was just once."

"You shouldn't make excuses for him."

"It's not an excuse, and it's not for his sake," I replied instantly, indignant at the accusation in Jack's tone and looks. His face was dark, and his jaw clenched as he stared at me.

"I don't like being lied to," he said. "And I don't like being dragged into a marital dispute that hasn't been dealt with properly."

My mouth fell open, not sure how to respond. Before I could form my thoughts into words, Jack grabbed the jacket he must have slung over the arm of the chair at some point and started putting it on.

"I'm sorry, Juno, I can't do this. I'm glad you're not hurt and I could prevent your ex from assaulting you, but I've had more than enough of women lying to me. You're no better than any of the rest."

I got to my feet, still stunned by his words, my brain frantically trying to figure out how I could respond to such an accusation. I'd barely met him when he'd noticed the bruises. Being abused wasn't the kind of thing you told someone when you'd barely met them.

Before I could stop him or come up with any kind of defense, my body and mouth frozen even while my mind raced, he walked out of my apartment and slammed the door behind him. I hurried after him, but it was as if my body didn't work properly. I fumbled with the door, trying to get it open.

As I hurried down the hallway, I could hear Jack's feet tapping down the stairs. I called his name a few times. He didn't stop, getting into his car and having his driver pull off a few seconds before I could get out of the building and onto the street.

I had just enough presence of mind not to let the door slam shut behind me, but I stood there for some time, panting and wanting to cry. How had my day started so well and then come to this?

Shaking, feeling a strange mix of exhausted and emotional, I slowly made my way back inside and up to my apartment. I slipped into the living room and sank onto my sofa. A moment later, I noticed I was hugging a cushion, my arms wishing something larger was between them.

When I'd first moved out of my marital home after living there for well over a decade, I'd assumed I'd feel lonely. But I hadn't. We'd already drifted so far apart that it had been freeing, if odd, living somewhere else.

This was the first time I felt lonely. I wanted to call out and just have anyone answer me. My life had fallen apart in only a few short months, and it felt like I would never be able to put it back together. All I had left were books and a TV series my agent cared about far more than I did.

Sighing and not sure what else to do, I called my agent and spent over an hour letting him talk my ear off about the TV series problems and what I could do to fix most of them. At first, it was something to do to keep me occupied. My agent was someone I could talk to, but over the hour, he somehow managed to pull me out of my emotional state and remind me of the stories I loved to write and how much my characters meant to me.

There were still a few details to work out when I finally hung up, but I felt better and less abandoned. I reheated one of the dinner portions I'd made on a previous night, stuck the TV on a Christmas movie channel, and settled in to make my heart feel in the mood for romance. Maybe after that, I'd be able to write my own again.