The Perfect Husband by Chris Taylor Page A

all those years ago might not have
been buried over the passage of time. The thought unsettled her and
yet at the same time, warmed her through.
    He glanced at his watch and the spell was
broken. He wasn’t being rude or signifying he wanted to be
somewhere else. She understood time was at a premium. He was a
senior doctor in a busy hospital and there was always plenty to be
done. Knowing if she didn’t find the courage to tell him now, she
might never feel brave enough to approach it, she spoke again.
    “Mason, it’s hard for me to trust anyone
right now, at times I don’t even trust myself. What I’m about to
tell you will shock you. In fact, if I wasn’t the one living
through this, I’d have a hard time believing it, too.”
    His gaze remained steady, but his expression
turned guarded. “Okay.”
    She drew in a deep breath and eased it out
between lips that were parchment dry. “Nigel and I have been
married for nine years. The last five of them have been a living
hell.”
    He didn’t move. Not even a blink. His tone
remained conversational. “In what way?”
    Hot shame boiled up inside her, but she
forced herself to answer. “He’s controlling, manipulative and
selfish and… And more and more lately he uses his fists.”
    That got his attention. He visibly paled
beneath his summer tan and swallowed uneasily.
    “What are you saying, Belle? That Nigel beats you and the kids?”
    She bravely held his gaze, though it was the
hardest thing she’d ever done. “Not the kids. So far, he’s only
threatened them. It’s me he beats.”
    * * *
    Mason stared at her and did his best to
control his fury, knowing instinctively that any loss of control
would frighten her. Under the table, his fists were clenched and
anger gushed through every vein. He wanted to rush away and find
Nigel Donnelly and pummel him to a pulp. He was so angry, he could
imagine killing the man with his bare hands. The bastard deserved
that and more. So much more.
    A man who beat up on his wife and threatened
his kids. What kind of goddamned cowardly asshole did that? He
couldn’t believe it was a man he knew—although looking back, the
early warning signs had been there.
    He could still remember seeing Nigel after a
game, angry because they’d lost. His mom had swung by to pick him
up and Nigel had shoved past her so hard, he’d pushed her against
the wall. She’d cried out, but his pace hadn’t slowed.
    It was Mason who’d walked over to her to
check that she was all right. He could still remember the glint of
her tears, but what was worse was the shame that had filled her
eyes. It was the same look that flooded Belle’s gaze now.
    “It’s not your fault, Belle. There’s
something missing in Nigel. He’s sick. He needs help.”
    She nodded, but he could see she didn’t
believe him. Her lip trembled and she averted her eyes. He took her
hands in his again and squeezed them, trying to reassure her, to
make her see. She cringed at the contact and once again, pulled her
hands out of his. He didn’t press.
    “It’s a common reaction to blame yourself.
It’s what a lot of victims do,” he continued gently. “You’re a
health professional. You know this stuff as well as I do. It’s not
your fault.” He spoke slowly and succinctly, doing his best to
convince her of the truth. The reality was, it would take a lot
more time and skill than he had to make her believe it.
    “I’m going to hunt that prick down and hit
him so hard he’ll never want to beat you again.” He said it calmly,
but with enough force that she’d know he was serious.
    She shook her head as if to protest, but a
tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “What good would that
do?”
    “Probably nothing, but I’d feel a hell of a
lot better.”
    She fell silent and busied herself
rearranging the napkins. He stared at her, willing her to meet his
gaze.
    “You have to leave him,” he said. “There’s
nothing else you can do.”
    It took awhile, but