Page 88 of Reckless Love

And if I’m honest, part of the reason I want to push through the divorce right now is because I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to risk what Raul will want to take. I want to be strong enough. I want to be strong enough so badly.

“As soon as he’s awake—”

“We can serve him. We can prep all the paperwork and be ready. I’ll courier it to Boston the minute he’s conscious.”

I hate that my happiness hinges on Raul waking up and being a totally different version of himself. It feels like false, naïve hope.

“Okay,” I say. “As long as we have a plan.” Even if it isn’t a good one.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ava

Later that night, the personal chef, who’s had very little to do since my whole family was in the accident, has just left Stephen’s house when the door opens again with Stephen’s arrival. I also just sent the nurse home.

“Smells amazing,” Stephen says from the front entry. “Did you order in?”

“In a way,” I say, not even fazed that he knows I wouldn’t have cooked.

“Your chef?” he asks as he comes into the kitchen.

“We are paying him,” I say while I dig out plates from the cupboard.

“You don’t need him anymore,” he says, kissing my temple. “You got me.”

Except Stephen’s been treating me like glass. Pecks of affection here and there, and I get that I’m injured. It’s just that I hate how closely intimacy and injury are tied together. Or I think they are. He’s treating me so carefully because I’m injured and not because of some other reason that I haven’t uncovered or wanted to consider. Maybe he’s just waiting to let me down easy.

If I was able to stay awake later than Landon, I might be able to get some answers about the weird vibe I keep getting.

From the kitchen, I try to deliver the still-hot dishes to the table, but as soon as Stephen clocks what I’m doing, he takes them from me and slides them onto the table before returning to take the plates and cutlery from me.

“I’m not helpless,” I say.

“I never said you were,” Stephen says. “Just thought you might be exhausted with all those meetings you had today, even though I suggested you don’t do that.”

“Suggested? That’s what this morning was?”

“Strongly suggested,” he says, a hint of teasing in his gaze. “Still getting used to this work ethic you have going on.”

“I always wanted to be successful,” I say, bristling a little.

“I know,” he says, his tone gentle and kind. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then?”

He doesn’t say anything while he sets the table then pulls out my chair for me to sit before sitting himself. He smooths down my hair, and we stare at each other. “You’re letting yourself care deeply, and you’re letting other people see how much you care too.”

“You’re telling me I’ve grown up without telling me I’ve grown up.”

“You can label it whatever you want, Ava. I’m not touching that one.”

“Food!” Landon calls as the bathroom door springs open and he runs down the hall. “Stephen, guess what happened today! Jenny brought perfumes to smell.” Landon slides into his seat at the table.

“Did she?” Stephen says, shooting me an amused glance. “Did you like them?”

“There were two,” Landon says. “One of them smelled like you.”

“A perfume that smells like me?” He lets out a little chuckle, and his expression turns curious. “Not sure that’ll be a winner.”