Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
His lips curve into something that’s almost a smile. “I can teach you if you’d like.”
“Okay.” I sink into one of the two chairs available and wait for him to do the same. The curves of the chair that keep me sliding to the middle actually cradle his bottom half nicely. I jerk my gaze away before he can catch me staring, turning my attention to the board.
It’s composed of squares like checkers or chess, but the colors are bit different—navy blue and pale gray. I examine the pieces laid out on my side: the gray. They almost look like chess pieces, but they’re not quite the same. “This looks both familiar and not.”
“According to the bargainers, it’s not far off from your chess.” He explains the rules. It’s so tempting to get lost in the low cadence of his voice, but I force myself to pay attention. He’s right: it’s pretty close to chess. The pieces look different, and the knight’s movements aren’t the same pattern, but most everything else is the same. They have different names than I’m used to, but it’s easier to think of them in the familiar terms.
I ask a few questions about gameplay, but I have it down. “Do you play often?”
“Not anymore.” He waits for me to move one of my pieces and then does the same with one of his pawns. “This set was a gift from Brant. We used to play most nights.” He’s not smiling anymore, but he just looks sad instead of closed off. “He would be irritated that I haven’t played in far too long.”
“Brant, irritated? Surely not. He seems like a saint.” I don’t mean to sound bitter, but it’s as if I have no control over myself. I shake my head. “Sorry, that wasn’t kind.”
“It’s okay.”
We fall into an almost-comfortable silence as we play. I’m not great at chess. I never had the patience to play out a strategy. And even if I did, I wouldn’t have the adaptability to abandon if it started failing. No matter how long it’s been since Thane played, he’s obviously very good at it, because he kicks my ass in less than a half hour.
His hand falls away from his queen, which he just moved to pin my king in place. “Would you . . . like to play again?” The hopefulness in his voice makes my heart give a worrisome lurch.
It’s a lost cause. I already know it. I was going to fall for this man from the moment he set himself in my life like a tower I could never hope to scale. The fact he’s giving me intimacy now is just the last nail in the coffin. “Yes,” I say softly.
He resets the board quickly and motions for me to make the first move. It’s not until I do that he says, “He wasn’t perfect. Brant, I mean.”
17
THANE
I expected it to hurt more to be back here, in the room I shared with Brant for so many years. Della has done a good job of maintaining it. When he was alive, it felt like a sanctuary from the pressing demands of leadership, but after he died, it just felt like a tomb. Everywhere I turned, there was another reminder of him and what we’d never have again.
Up until bringing Catalina here, I avoided the tower, and for the last few weeks, I’ve been sleeping in one of the underwater guest rooms. I didn’t really think through bringing her to this room. I only wanted to show Catalina that this does mean something to me.
To give her access to something I never share with anyone.
The reminders of Brant are still there, but it’s almost as if they’ve lost their teeth. I miss him. I don’t believe I’ll ever stop missing him. But instead of making me want to start swimming and never return, being here is almost like revisiting good memories.
For the first time, it feels less like a betrayal and more like a natural letting go. Not entirely. Not of everything. But of the weight I’ve carried since his death.
I don’t know how much of that is Catalina. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as we exchange a few moves. She’s still shaken. For someone who acts like nothing gets her down for long, she’s got a remarkably fragile center. She’s been hurt, and badly.
I hide my clenched fist in my tentacles. I can’t fight the people from her past. It wouldn’t fix the harm they’ve done, and I doubt it would make either of us feel better about our current situation.
But perhaps I can balance the scales in other ways. I draw in a breath that does nothing to steady me. “Brant was selfish.”
Catalina jolts. “You don’t have to do this. I know you loved—love—him.”