Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“You never thought of becoming a detective?” I ask. He goes quiet for a moment and then meets my eyes.
“I was a detective.”
“Oh. And you stopped because…”
“Because I had to find my wife’s killer, and my job didn’t allow me to get dirty enough.”
His words slowly sink in, and I’m frozen in place with shock.
Did he just say…
Clearly, I didn’t hear him right.
His wife?
No, way.
“You were married?” I put my glass on the table and then shuffle to my side to mirror his position. He places his drink to the side as well, and he notices my outstretched hand peeking out from beneath the blanket.
He grabs it, his touch feather light as he says, “Yes.”
I swallow. Hard. “How long ago?”
“High school sweethearts, married straight out of school. She stuck with me through university until I could find a job. I stayed here in the US for her, though we always spoke about spending some time in London before settling down in the small city she grew up in.”
Wow. What the fuck?
“I’m sorry she died,” I say earnestly as I rub my thumb back and forth over his.
He smiles, but there’s no humor in it. He’s uncomfortable. Vulnerable. Perhaps something he hasn’t been in a long time. He looks tired. “So am I,” he says. “Her death was the reason I began to live in this world.”
“What do you mean?”
“River was the one who helped me. I busted one of his warehouses full of guns, but instead of taking him in, I asked for a favor. He got me my first connections, and it grew from there. I eventually found her—well, her body—and then I tracked down her murderers. And, well… you can imagine what happened.”
Dead. Brutalized, most likely. This man is deadly under the surface.
“How long has it been since she passed?” I ask quietly. It feels like nothing else exists on this rooftop bar as we stare into one another’s eyes with old wounds reopening. And not only his. I feel the weight like it’s my own. Of former lives ,we’d prefer not bring to the light.
“Seven years.”
Knowing that about him makes me look at him a little differently. I don’t know why.
“No one here but River knows about her. Maria knows not to speak of her. It’s better that way.”
“Can I ask why?”
“It hurts less.”
I nod. I don’t understand, because I’ve never been married before or even loved someone enough to want to marry them. But I understand running away from demons.
“I don’t know much about death or losing someone you love, but I hope if I die, those who love me will never stop talking about me,” I say, and as I do, the world around us goes silent, and his gaze drops to our intertwined fingers. And for the first time, I don’t see the happy person I’m so used to seeing.
I see a man who has been broken and is trying to put himself back together.
And I like him more.
“I’m sure anyone who loves you would never forget you, Alina.” I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear those words. Besides my mother, who would truly miss me? Who have I let close enough to care if I went missing?
“Thank you, Will.” He nods, and we fall silent. His gaze flicks back to me. I wonder what type of man he was as a husband. Was he a good one? Was she always laughing?
I want to know all of these things. Yet there’s a bitter twist I don’t entirely understand.
“Do you plan to ever marry again?” I ask.
“No,” he admits. “I loved her, no doubt in my head about that. And I assumed I would never meet anyone as amazing as she was.” He pins me with a stare. “But marriage was something she wanted; I never wanted it.” He leans back over and grabs his drink, reminding me to do the same. As soon as I do, his hand is waiting expectantly for me to place mine back in it.
“Do you want marriage?” he asks.
It wasn’t something I’d seriously considered, not until recently, after watching Honey and Rya. It’s inspiring but also something I’m certain happens in fairy tales. But if I met a man like that, I suppose I would want it.
“I think I do.” I’m smiling as I say it, thinking of Honey and her happiness. It’s all Maria talks about as well. I always thought it was a sign of weakness, but the women here in New York have proven that otherwise.
“I hope you get everything you want, Alina.”
It feels kind of… done. Like that’s the answer we both wanted to hear.
That what we’re doing between us is just that—sex.
It offers me a bitter twist but also a foundation and understanding as to where we stand. He’s a man not willing to step away from his past, and I’m a woman only looking at my future.