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Observing him, I see that his approach is blunt, but in a light and humorous way. He is quite literally going to push me out of my comfort zone, but stand there with me in the wreckage that is my trauma.

As we walk out of the back door, I hesitate before following him. He stops at his truck and turns back to raise an eyebrow at me. “Everything okay, Nora?” he asks.

I am realizing in this moment that the last time I was in a truck, Liam fucked me. I haven’t had sex in a year, and I miss it. A lot. That’s not something I want to discuss with Owen, though.

“Yeah. Just weird,” I lie.

“Mhmm,” he says, opening his passenger door. When I finally get over to him, he continues. “If you are going to lie, Nora. You should get better at it.”

I turn around to glare at him, but he just smiles and walks back around to the driver’s side door. I get in and shut the door as he starts the truck. It’s weighing heavily on my mind now, and I can’t make it go away. I’m not turned on or anything, but I am hyperfocused.

About the time he is pulling onto the main road, I blurt it out. “I’ve not had sex in a year,” I say.

“I sure hope not,” he says. “Your file said you are hypersexual. I assume that’s where this is coming from?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I had sex with Alex the night he died, and Liam the next day. Full disclosure, it was in a truck, a lot like this.”

“That’s why you hesitated,” he says. “Good memories or bad?”

“Good, but sad,” I say. “Three weeks later I found out I was pregnant.”

Owen looks over at me and is genuinely surprised. “Nora, I’m sorry,” he says. “That wasn’t in your file.”

“Only Ricky and Sadie know,” I say. “I got an abortion and then explained everything to the judge the next day.”

“I’m sorry you had to make that decision,” he says. “Do you think you made the right choice?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I never would have survived being pregnant and alone. I would have killed myself the first time I heard the heartbeat.”

“Then I’m proud of you. It was the first time you put yourself first,” he says. “But I know we can ‘what if’ a situation endlessly.”

I look around the truck, and I notice there is a little paper sticking out from the visor. It looks like a photo. I wonder what it is.

Owen glances over at me before he looks up at the corner of the picture I see. “You’re analyzing me,” he remarks.

“Force of habit,” I laugh. “I’m trying to remind myself that I’m not the one who should be doing the analyzing.”

“It’s my understanding that Gabriel was exceptionally good at profiling, yes?” he asks.

“Mhmm. He guessed my daddy issues almost immediately the first time we met,” I say.

“And you were also good at profiling?”

“I did okay.”

“Go ahead then,” he says, glancing at me with a smirk. “Profile me.”

“Well,” I say, turning in my seat a bit to look at him. “You’re thirty-five?”

“Thirty-three,” he says.

“Doctorate in psychology. Which means you’ve been practicing in this role for probably… five years,” I say.

“Seven,” he corrects.

“Ah. So you started college as a teenager. That means you were likely a social outcast,” I say. “You are handsome and care about your appearance, but in a simplistic way. You obviously go to the gym. So that makes me think you are compensating for something.”

“Ouch, Nora,” he laughs.