Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
His fingers rested on his glass, and his eyes shifted to look at me.
I froze in his stare, feeling stuck in place by his rigidness.
“I don’t ever want to talk about it.”
Over the course of our dates, I’d gotten to know him better, but I still felt like I didn’t know him at all. However, I did see the pain in his stare, that whatever happened to him was more than a painful breakup. But I would probably never know more. “That’s okay.”
The hardness in his eyes softened slightly, seemingly touched by the way I backed off. He hadn’t interrogated me about my marriage, didn’t persecute me for the choices I’d made—the choices that I’d allowed my husband to make. I wanted to give him the same courtesy. There were things we wanted to know about each other, but we would have to settle for keeping our secrets.
“What do you think?”
I’d finished most of my dish, a couple ravioli left on the plate. “A lot better than that salad.”
He gave a slight smirk, and his face was so much more handsome when he did that.
“What about yours?”
“I’m not picky. I’ll eat anything.”
“Then I should cook for you sometime. It’ll be nice not to have any pressure.”
He wiped away a speck of sauce from the corner of his mouth before returning the linen to his lap. His plate was nearly empty, with the exception of a few mushrooms that were left behind. He washed it down with a drink from his second scotch. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I braced for whatever he wanted to know, but I was so lost in those dark eyes that it was hard to be scared. I never knew brown eyes could be so damn pretty. They had a darkness to them…but also a warmth.
“What did you do after your father died?”
That wasn’t a question I’d expected. Figured it would have something to do with my marriage. “That was a hard time in my life. I stopped my classes, slept around a lot because I felt alone. When I lost my home…I lost myself.”
“Why did you lose your home?”
“Couldn’t make the mortgage, so it was repossessed by the bank.” I took the possessions that mattered most but lost the rest. “Slept on a friend’s couch for a while. The years after that were one struggle after another. Tried to make it as an artist, but I was just broke and hungry. My dad had a life insurance policy, but the company didn’t honor it because he killed himself. I don’t think he’d anticipated that.”
He didn’t make another negative comment about my father. He seemed to have let that go.
“I got a job at the gallery and finally got my own apartment. Then I met my husband shortly after, got married, and moved in to his place.” All the wealth I had came from him. He elevated me from rags to riches. I used to consider myself lucky to marry for love, and the money was just a perk. But the wealth did drastically change my life. I never worried about money or bills or car repairs. All the money I earned at the gallery was just extra spending money that I didn’t need. I worked a job because I wanted to, not because I had to, and that was the ultimate sign of privilege.
Theo listened to every word I said. His eyes didn’t glaze over like he’d lost interest. He was with me in every moment, in every word I spoke, entranced by the mundane mediocrity of my life. “The death of your father was the most defining moment of your life…”
My eyes locked on his.
“We all have moments like that. If that moment hadn’t happened or if it’d been different…what else would have been different?”
I couldn’t imagine how different my life would have been. I probably would have lived with my dad for a long time, not because I needed to, but because I wouldn’t have wanted to leave him alone until he was ready to be on his own. Or maybe I wouldn’t have left at all because I enjoyed spending time with him. There wouldn’t be nearly as many notches on my bedpost. Wouldn’t be so many scars on my heart. “What’s your moment?”
His eyes shifted slightly.
“The moment that changed your life.”
He considered the question for a long time, letting the silence hang heavy between us. “I have more than one.” His big arms crossed over his chest. “The first was when I lost the family business to a fire…and had nothing left. I needed money, and I didn’t care how I earned it. If that hadn’t happened, I probably wouldn’t be who I am now.”
“And the other moment?”
All he did was give a slight shake of his head. “That one…dies with me.”