Page 62 of My Damaged Protector

Can I do it alone if Ian is not okay with it?

Would he really let me handle it all on my own?

I don't think he's that kind of man. But the truth is, I don't really know the kind of man he is. Sure, there's history between us. But it's been years since we were last close. And even then, he barely opened up to me. What I know about him are mostly things I had to pry to get insight on and find out for myself.

What's my life going to be like if I do have to do this all on my own?

Sure, I'm rich. But money is not everything. And I already have Olivia. She’s my entire world—my little girl who depends on me for everything. I'm doing my best to keep her safe as it is, and sometimes it feels like it's not enough. How do I deal with another addition to our life?

Shit. This is not good.

But I can't help but already feel like it's a blessing in disguise. I'm too much of an emotional person to not look at the advantages of the situation after looking at the disadvantages.

If Ian does decide to be supportive, that could be huge for both of us. It could be an opportunity to properly build a life for us, maybe forever.

But what if he disagrees?

Ugh!

Minute after minute, I drive myself mad about the possibilities and impossibilities of my situation. Eventually, when I feel like I can't take it anymore, I go to join Ian in thekitchen. He won't let me do anything, so I'm left with no choice but to watch him dominate the kitchen.

He's an amazing cook. Chopping veggies and stirring soup like it's something he was born to do.

When the food is ready and I have my first taste, I officially decide that maybe he was born to cook.

“This is delicious,” I say as I take yet another scoop of my soup.

I hear no response from him, making me raise my head so our eyes meet. He's looking at me while he plays around with his food.

“What?” I ask, trying to pretend like I don't already know what's bothering him.

“What happened?”

“Can I just enjoy this food? Please. I'll tell you eventually. I just need time to gather my thoughts,” I plead.

It's not exactly a lie, and I'm glad he lets it go.

We both eat in silence, and when we're done, I do the dishes regardless of how hard he protests against it.

Against his advice, I turn on the TV, tired of not knowing what's being said, and I find out that I'm being crucified.

“Just turn it off. You don't need to hear what they're saying. They don't know you. They don't know what's really going on, so why bother listening to what they have to say?”

He speaks so passionately I want to kiss him for being so thoughtful. So diplomatic even, because let's face it, he doesn't know what's going on, either. But here he is, standing up for me.

Ian is a good man. Sometimes. Well, most times, if I'm honest.

I open my mouth to tell him that, and my phone chooses that moment to ring.

Huffing, I bring it out of my bag. It's been stuffed in there since earlier today.

The name flashing on the screen immediately makes my heart start to beat fast, but I try to stay calm. I don't miss Ian's curious eyes following my every move, so I pick up the call.

“Hello Auntie,” I say so he'll know who's calling and, as expected, he relaxes.

“How are you dear?”

“I'm okay. How about you?”

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