The Nice Guy by Sarah A. Denzil

Author:Sarah A. Denzil [Denzil, Sarah A. & Harker, SL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-29T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 31

Three days pass without so much as a text message from Ethan or Alice. He’s gone silent many times after an argument, but part of me did expect some grovelling this time. What happened at his mother’s house felt different. Like a shift had occurred. I thought Ethan might sense that and try his best to cling on as I pull away from him.

During the three days of silence, I’m too busy moving to give the situation much thought. It’s a welcome break from the constant worry of what Ethan might do next.

Jessa holds up a pale-blue lamp. “Where do you want this?”

Hands on my hips and a sheen of sweat across my forehead, I regard the bedroom and shake my head. “Oh, that goes on my nightstand, which the movers haven’t brought yet.”

“Oh.” She frowns.

“Just put it in the corner for now.”

“Cool.” Jessa shrugs and sets it down.

“This place is so great, Jessa,” I say. “Thank you so much.”

“Thank my granny,” she says. “I inherited it from her. Otherwise, I’d never be able to afford an apartment this size.”

I look up at the ceiling, pressing my palms together. “Thank you, Granny Chen.”

Jessa bats my arm and laughs. “What else do you need help with?”

“Why don’t we take a break? I’m exhausted.” There’s a box of unpacked books at my feet, and we’ve been doing this for hours. Every muscle in my body aches. But it’s a good ache. Moving in with Jessa is the best decision I’ve made in a long time. “Christopher’s napping. If you keep an eye on him, I’ll order us some sandwiches from downstairs.”

“Fantastic.” Jessa stretches out her back. “Don’t you just love the convenience of the city?”

“Yes, and the fact that you have a deli on the bottom floor of your apartment building helps too. I don’t know why I didn’t move here sooner.”

Twenty minutes later, I return with a toasted bagel with avocado for me and a turkey-and-cream-cheese one for her. We plop down in front of her TV, and Jessa clicks on a true crime show. Soon, we settle in, forgetting all about the unpacking. Of course, the husband of the murder victim turns out to be a controlling man her family warned her about, and something about him begins to remind me of Ethan.

I look at Christopher and his precious pink cheeks. His eyes move under the closed lids, and I wonder what his dreams involve. The purple bunny, maybe, or his planets mobile. “Christopher deserves better than this mess.”

Jessa’s forehead creases. “Has something happened?”

“I ran away from Alice’s house in the Hamptons.”

“You ran away? What the hell?”

“Yeah, I was putting off telling you about it because it’s so bizarre. I thought you might judge me.” I scratch the back of my head.

“I would never!” she insists.

“Maybe ‘judge’ is the wrong word. I just didn’t want to keep going on about my situation because it must be annoying for you.” I pull in a deep breath and tell her all about the lunch.

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