AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Let’s make up for lost time.”
I slide off my shoes and Roman does the same, and he tucks them into the outer pocket of the case containing my art supplies.
We hold hands, and I guide him to the water’s edge, where there’s a series of stepping stones that cut through the shallow side of the pond. They’re cool and slick with moss, contrasting with the warmth of the sun.
Roman’s eyes dance with wonder, making him look carefree. “How do you know about this place?”
“From other artists, and tourists,” I reply.
“Tourists?”
“When I came to Beaumont City, the first thing I looked for was studio space.” We reach the other side and continue up a small hill.
“Not an apartment?”
“The youth hostel where I stayed offered free accommodation for housekeeping staff, so I didn’t have to worry about the expense. People visited from all over the world, which is how I learned about some of the more popular tourist sights.”
He stares down into the side of my face but doesn’t speak.
“When I found a studio I could afford, the other artists told me about the rarer beauty spots around the state. One of them was Simon’s Pond.”
We reach the top of the hill, which levels out into a grassy clearing surrounded by trees. There’s a small opening that looks out onto the water that makes Roman whistle.
“They told me about this spot, too,” I say. “No one ever comes up here.”
While I set up my easel, Roman spreads a blanket over the ground and unpacks the picnic basket, revealing white wine, ciabatta, prosciutto, olives, and a variety of cheeses. There’s even a panettone and fresh fruit for dessert.
“Sofia really prepared us a feast.”
He pours the wine into plastic goblets and grins. “She knows how to keep us well-fed.”
As I cut the bread and place it on the plates, Roman asks, “Why did you leave the youth hostel?”
“There’s only so much sleep a person can get when sharing a bunk with eight much younger girls on vacation, so I found work with an agency that paid a lot more.”
“Is that how you met the cop?”
My gaze drops to the pale slice bread. I add some prosciutto to it and shrug. “Yeah, I was cleaning the police precinct where he worked, and he asked me out for coffee. After a few weeks, we started dating.”
Roman remains silent for several heartbeats longer than is comfortable, forcing me to meet his hard gaze. My stomach churns. I know he’s thinking I’m a fool for letting myself get hurt by Jim.
“If you’re wondering how I could have gotten mixed up with a psychopath, you need to understand he wasn’t always like that. At first, he was goofy and endearing. Even a little shy. I thought he was a good guy.”
“When did he switch?”
Bitterness coats my tongue, and I take a sip of the wine to wash it away. “It was more of a gradual descent. You know the frog in boiling water analogy?”
“Never heard of it.”
“Frogs would leap out of hot water, but if you place them in cold water, they’ll stay there, even if you increase the temperature as long as you do it slowly. Eventually, they’ll boil to death.”
His brows lower. “So you didn’t notice the gradual changes until it was too late?”
My shoulders sag. “His manipulation was more skillful than turning up the heat.”
“What do you mean?”
“When we first began dating, he would mention incidents where women had been attacked or raped by their roommate’s boyfriends or guests, making me feel like where I lived wasn’t safe.”
