What He Reasons by Hannah Ford

Author:Hannah Ford [Ford, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-27T05:00:00+00:00

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A fter , we ordered Chinese food and ate it in bed. I’d pulled on one of Noah’s old law school t-shirts, one that was so big it hung down to my knees. He’d pulled on a pair of loose black pajama pants that hung low on his hips, and stayed shirtless. It was hard not to stare at the perfection that was his body, at the flex of his cut biceps, at the soft line of hair that started at his navel and disappeared into the dip of his pants.

Everything about him was sex personified, and it was so intense, it permeated everything, blotting out everything else. I wondered if I would ever get used to it.

“This is a very non Noah-Cutler thing to do,” I said, looking at the makeshift picnic we’d spread out in front of us on the bed. Takeout containers were strewn about, each one filled with something different.

“What is?”

“Eating in bed.” The sheets in this room were always immaculately pressed, stark white, cleaned and replaced by someone I never saw, a maid or housekeeper who came when I wasn’t around. Even Docket seemed to somehow know how perfect the sheets were supposed to be, and he tended to make sure he slept only on top of the comforter.

“Oh, is it?” Noah reached down and picked up a piece of sushi, held it over the bed and pretended he was going to drop it.

“Stop it!” I said. “You’re going to get the sheets dirty.”

“Oh, now you’re worried about messes? Now who’s the one being clean?”

“Please,” I said, rolling my eyes as I picked a piece of chicken out of the container of chicken lo mein. I popped it into my mouth then set the container back down on the nightstand. “You’re going to have to get used messes around here when the baby comes.”

“Charlotte –”

“No.” I shook my head. “No more shutting down, Noah. I get it. You’re afraid that you’re going to be shit dad because you had a shit dad. But that’s not true. You’re going to be a great dad. I’m scared, too. It’s normal to be scared.”

“You don’t know I’m going to be a great dad.”

“Yes,” I said. “I do.” And I did. I knew deep in my heart that he would. He would be kind and giving, if he could just allow himself to be. “Maybe we need to see a therapist,” I said. “Someone who can help us to work through these things.”

He scoffed. “I don’t need a therapist to tell me I’m fucked up, Charlotte.”

“That’s not what a therapist does, Noah. They don’t just sit there and tell you you’re fucked up. They help you to figure out why you’re fucked up, and they help you work through your issues.”

“Therapy is pointless.”

“It’s not pointless,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure about it myself. “And besides, at least it’s something.”

He sighed and scrubbed at his face. “Will that make you feel better? If I go to

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