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She blinked, a blood vessel pumping in her neck. “You’re quitting over a silly little misunderstanding? Well, I hope you aren’t expecting a reference. And I’ll be letting all your other clients know—”
“That what?” I interrupted. “That I quit because you got physical with me? Okay, you go ahead and let them know all about that.”
She blinked, looking stunned, as I retook Shay’s hand and led him to where I’d stowed my things in the utility room. He helped me on with my coat before ushering me out and down the street to Rhys’ car.
I hadn’t known Shay could drive, so it was a surprise to see him slide into the driver’s seat after opening the passenger side for me and helping me in. He was treating me like I was made of porcelain, like I might shatter at any moment, and though I wasn’t quite that delicate, it was nice to be taken care of. I’d been through upsetting work situations in the past, but I’d never had anyone sweep me away from it all like that. The car felt like a cosy, snug cocoon away from the anxiety of dealing with Mrs Reynolds.
“I can’t believe you can drive,” I said, wondering why he took the bus to work. It could’ve been for convenience, not being stuck in traffic or having to find a parking space. Or perhaps it was because, like me, he couldn’t afford to run a car.
Shay started the engine, put the car in gear, checked his blind spot, and we were off. My body was still full of adrenaline after quitting. There was also an edge of panic as I contemplated what I’d done. There was no coming back from that. It was an impulsive decision, but I couldn’t regret it, not after how undermining and aggressive Mrs Reynolds had been.
I was leaning towards accepting Jonathan Oaks’ job offer, and now there could be no more indecision. Sure, I could just keep working for my other clients, but I had a feeling Mrs Reynolds was going to try and blacklist me. Well, maybe I could beat her to the punch and tell everyone about her grabbing me and how undermining and critical she always was. It felt petty, but I was in a petty sort of mood.
The drive to my flat was quiet. Shay kept glancing at me every once in a while to check how I was doing. I managed to muster a watery, half-hearted smile for him.
I hated coming across weak, like I needed to be wrapped up in cotton wool and taken care of. It wasn’t something I’d ever really experienced before, which was probably why I was so uncomfortable with it. All my life, I’d had only myself to rely on. If I had a bad day or something went wrong, there was nobody else to comfort me. There was no one to drive me home or glower at the person who did me wrong as Shay had that night.
Just thinking about how he’d pulled me into that bathroom and held me in his arms had my stomach erupting in butterflies. They batted their wings like crazy, making it difficult to breathe. I liked that he was there tonight, that for once in my life there was somebody in my corner.
We reached my street, and he managed to find a parking space close to my flat. He signed at me to stay put, which I was able to understand, then came around to my side and opened the door. Shay released my seatbelt and took my hand before walking me to my flat. He waited silently while I dug out my key, but my hand kept shaking as I tried to slot it into the lock. I blew out a frustrated breath before Shay’s large, warm fingers closed around mine, taking my key and deftly slotting it in for me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, a hitch in my voice.
Shay pushed open the door, then handed the key back to me gently.
When we got inside, I set my things down and just stood there for a moment. I was still a little in shock that after all those years I’d finally told Mrs Reynolds I quit. It didn’t seem real.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing there when Shay took my hand and led me over to my bed. He helped me take off my coat and shoes, then motioned for me to sit down while he went to grab the pyjamas I’d left hanging over a chair.
He placed them in my hands, then turned around, allowing me the privacy to change. I was touched by how caring and patient he was being. He was taking care of me in a way I’d missed out on practically my whole life. I had some brief, fleeting memories of my mother, a handful of times when she’d been nice to me.
