AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Or at least, I hope it is.
During our hour-long class, my student barely says anything. He only excuses himself once to retrieve a glass of water, but other than that, he hangs on my every word. I see and hear him jot down a lot of notes, but any attempts on my end to coax him into the conversation are futile. By the end of the session, I’m sure I’ve done more harm than good until I see the review he’s left me.
Feeling pleased with myself, I finish the rest of my now lukewarm tea and carry it into the kitchen. With no one else around, I stare out the window and run the mug under warm water with some soap. After I’m done, I lean against the counter and study Anita’s backyard. Tristan is outside, a bandana tying his long hair back and pit stains already forming underneath his arms.
Sam is sitting on the other side of the yard, sunglasses perched on her nose and a book held up to her face. When Tristan inches closer, the lawn mower still running steadily, she lowers her glasses to look at him. The two of them exchange a tender look as he yanks on a cord and pauses. She curls her fingers around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss.
I know I shouldn’t invade their privacy, but I can’t help myself. Seeing other people together is painful, but it reminds me of what I’m fighting for. I don’t know if Carter has given up yet, but I’m not ready to. And until Carter tells me the words himself, I’m not going anywhere.
Straightening my back, I turn away from the image of Sam and Tristan, smiling lovingly at each other, and fill up the kettle with water. When Tristan comes in through the backdoor, his shirt is soaked through, and his cheeks are bright red, but he looks pleased with himself.
Until he looks over and sees me in the kitchen, lingering over my tea.
The smile fades as he straightens his back. “How’s it going, Isabella? How was your first online class?”
I clear my throat. “It was fine. He was shy, so he didn’t say much, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get through to him in time.”
Tristan pauses. “And you’re sure this is safe, right?”
“The platform was developed by an old friend of Anita’s.” I take the tea bag and throw it into the bin under the sink. “So, as sure as I can be.”
Tristan’s expression is still doubtful. “I’ll talk to Anita. In the meantime, try not to give away anything too personal. Your first name should be fine for now.”
I raise an eyebrow. “This feels familiar.”
Tristan blinks, a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry, old habits die hard.”
He wheels around to leave, but my voice makes him stop in his tracks. Slowly, reluctantly, Tristan twists back to face me, his eyes tightening around the edges. I leave my mug on the marble kitchen counter and bridge the distance between us. A few feet away, I stop and shove both hands into my pockets.
I can already tell Tristan isn’t going to tell me anything new or anything I like. But I know it isn’t his fault.
Carter is his cousin, and the two of them have been through a lot together, so I shouldn’t expect him to betray Carter like that. Even if a part of me is desperate for any glimmer or morsel of information to tide me over. Little by little, I’m trying to return to some semblance of a normal life, but I feel like I keep getting pulled back, and Carter’s hold is everywhere I look.
I don’t want to be free of him, but I can’t survive on the memory of him either.
“Isabella—”
I hold a hand up. “I know you can’t tell me where he is, and you don’t know when he’ll be back. It’s not that I don’t believe you…”
Tristan studies my face. “It’s that you don’t want to believe me.”
“Something like that,” I admit, with a sigh. “Can you at least tell me if he’s still pissed about the bar thing? Sam did try to tell him that you knew where we were and that you had eyes on us, but he didn’t want to listen.”
Tristan snorts. “Yeah, Carter isn’t the easier man to get through to when he’s made up his mind.”
I shift from one foot to the other. “I know.”
Tristan rubs a hand over his face. “He’s still mad, but he’ll get over it. Mostly, he’s just mad at Sam for putting you in that position.”
“She was trying to help us move past our fight,” I remind him with a shake of my head. “I hope you told him that, at least.”
Tristan stops running a hand over his face and lets his hand fall to his side. “Carter isn’t really in the listening mood, Isabella. He’s got a lot on his plate, no offense.”
I wince. “I get it.”
Being away from me gives him the perfect excuse to focus on his empire, the greatest threat to our happiness and survival.
Tristan gives me an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re important to him, too, Isabella. Fuck, it’s just… he still needs time, okay?”
