He gestures at my tea. “I didn’t know if you wanted sugar or milk.”
“Neither.” I pick up the cup and take a sip. “It’s perfect.”
We stand in silence for a few seconds, then I glance at the sparsely decorated living room. “Do you want to sit inside or outside?”
“Outside.”
I follow him back out into the yard and place my cup on the table as I take a seat.
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, then say, “You’re probably wondering why people dropped off food here today.”
He shakes his head. “I know what happened to you and your family. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
I look down at my hands and twist my fingers together. “That’s the bad thing about living in a small town. Everyone knows your business.”
We’re quiet for a little while, then I lift my head and force a smile to my face. “What do you do for a living that allows you to stay at home all day?”
His features grow tense. “I’m a writer.”
The memory of Mom lost in a book flashes through my mind, and it sends a crippling wave of pain through me.
I inhale deeply before letting the air out slowly, taking a moment so the grief will lessen.
Wanting to keep the topic on him, I say, “I’ve never met an author before. What kind of books do you write?”
“Fiction. Mostly action and thrillers.”
There’s a pause in the conversation before I ask, “Do you love it?”
Levi lets out a heavy breath, his eyebrows drawing together. “I used to.”
I tilt my head. “Why past tense?”
His gaze lifts to mine, and I feel a zap through my stomach and abdomen from the intense look in his eyes.
“I had a book that got picked up for film. It was a huge success, and when the movie aired, all my books featured in the top hundred of all the bestseller lists.”
“Oh wow. So you’re famous?” As soon as the words leave me, I feel awkward for saying them.
“Only by name.” Levi shakes his head and glances over the dark backyard. “Few people know what I look like.” His thumb brushes along the handle of the empty mug in his hands. “Since the instant success, I don’t know what to do with myself, and I have writer’s block.”
“Can’t you take a break?”
His eyes find mine again. “I signed a contract with a publisher, and they already gave me an extension. I’ll just have to power through.”
“I’d offer my help, but I know nothing about writing a book.”
He stares at me until it feels as if we’re being enclosed in our own private bubble, then he murmurs, “Talking to you helps. In a way, I’m letting go of some of the stress.”
“Yeah?”
Levi nods. “Sometimes you just have to find the right person to talk to. Someone who will listen and not tell you to heal and move on.”
My eyes begin to burn with unshed tears because his words hit me hard.
“Everyone just wants me to heal,” I whisper. “They don’t realize they’re asking for the impossible.”
Levi tilts his head, his face filled with understanding. “You can’t heal something that’s destroyed.”
