Brit peered over. Even in the dead of night, the brilliance from his eyes shone bright, like a beacon guiding her home.
His attention stayed anchored straight ahead. “She committed suicide.”
“Ohgod.”
“She left a note explaining that I had been her person, and she couldn’t live without me. I was gutted over it.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Since then, I’ve closed myself off from getting involved,” he said.
“Totally?”
“No dates, no convos over a drink. No texting, sexting, and definitely no hookups.”
She ran her hand down his triceps, threaded her fingers through his. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“How do you figure?”
“Ultimately, everyone is responsible for their own mental health. She could have gotten help. She could have told you or confided in someone she trusted. Did she struggle with mental health issues?”
“She did, but I didn’t know until her parents sued me. My lawyer spoke with one of her boyfriends. She threatened suicide when he broke up with her. He told her mom and she got help. In the end, I ended up settling. Her parents wanted someone to blame. I took the hit. I couldn’t turn back time, couldn’t bring their daughter back. If money alleviated their pain, it was worth it to me.”
Turning toward her, he clasped her hands. “I told myself I wouldn’t get involved with anyone, and I hadn’t, until I met you.”
His voice so quiet, she questioned if she’d even heard him right.
“The more I get to know you, the more I like you,” he murmured.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked.
“It would be for most people, but not for me. I don’t want to hurt you, not even by accident. If things don’t work out… it’s more complicated ‘cause we’re partners.”
The pain in his eyes tore through her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulled him close, and held him.
She needed him to know her own truth.
Seconds passed before she ended their tender embrace, led him to the sofa. They sat, she threw her legs over his thighs, then covered them with the blanket.
“First, I have no expectations when it comes to us,” she said. “I’m not looking for my forever man, and I don’t want children.”
“You have so much to offer someone,” he murmured.
“My track record with men is terrible. I pick emotionally unavailable ones, or men who have no moral compass. My last one was a real winner. He ended up isolating me from my friends. Between my sniper jobs and my art, I was alone a lot, but I had friends. A few months after meeting him, I’d given all of them up.”
“That’s not good,” he said.
“Quitting my job turned out to be a good thing. My entire life changed because of you. I’m not alone, and I’m super happy about that.”
He captured her face in his hands, kissed her. Her heart blossomed. She craved his touch, loved his kisses.
“Why no children?” he asked.
“The woman Addison and I were with at your hotel is my mother, resurrected from the depths of hell.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes. “I thought your mom died.”
“That’s what I tell people. It was the only way I could cope with her leaving. Ultimately, she rejected us. I told myself she died so I would stop waiting for her to come home.”