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“You have every right to be angry.”
“I do. Lies don’t belong in relationships.”
He nodded once, and the tiny amount of hope that had blossomed in him shriveled back up. Her tone said she hadn’t forgiven him. And here he’d thought he might have changed her mind.
Did he deserve to be forgiven? No.
They ate for a few minutes, and the haze of exhaustion that had clouded Everly seemed to lift. “This is awesome. So much better than toast.”
Ambrose laughed in spite of himself, considering it was a pretty fancy dinner, even for him.
When she laid her cutlery aside, he brought her to the living room and flipped on a documentary about seals. Either she’d fall asleep on the couch, and he could move her to the guest bedroom they used to share, or maybe he could get her talking.
“Seals?” She sat on the far side of the couch, and he sat on the other end, giving her space.
“If I watch shows about warm climates, I start wanting to travel.”
“So? You’re rich. Why not go?”
“Well, mostly because I’d have no one to go with. My family is busy with their own work, and so are the guys.” Maybe that had been too forward. He glanced at the television, watching the underwater ballet of the seals playing together.
“You’re not seeing anyone?”
He looked at her and shook his head. Although she seemed to be studying him, it didn’t look like his dating status mattered to her either way.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Thank goodness she’d brought it up, because he had to know one way or the other. Asking would have made him sound like some sort of desperate stalker.
Her expression was unreadable, but was there a hint of longing there? “No. I’ve been too messed up about you.”
Ambrose moved closer to her, but stopped when her expression turned wary.
“The very last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you.”
Everly’s brows raised in disbelief.
“It’s true. That’s one of the biggest reasons I had such a hard time coming clean about the money. Everything between us was so perfect that it made me more and more reluctant to fuck it up.” Ambrose swallowed, giving himself time to calm his voice. He was too stressed out to make sure all of his words came out right, but it might be the only chance she’d ever give him to say it.
“So what were you planning to do? You were just going to house-sit for your imaginary buddy for the rest of our lives? You were never going to tell me where you worked? You would have just kept paying for your bogus apartment?” She frowned and shook her head like he was the biggest damn idiot she’d ever met. When it came to her, maybe he was. Sometimes love made people stupid.
“I don’t know. I thought of selling the house. It’s too big anyway. And I don’t need so much money. I could just donate most of it and live off a normal wage. Other people could put it to better use.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “So you would have sold your house and lived like a regular person, just to keep me?”
“What’s the point of having money if it means I can’t be with the person I love? Besides, you’ve shown me I don’t need all this shit to make me happy. I was happier in my crappy fake apartment, because I was with you.”
Everly didn’t say anything, but seemed to be mulling over his words. Fuck. He should say something romantic, but he wasn’t good at smooth-talking.
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I saw an envelope on your counter, from the new East End Shelter. What’s that about?”
Busted.
Mentally he scrambled, trying to figure out what to say.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “No more lies, Ambrose. Just tell me.”
“You said we needed one in that area.” He grimaced. When he was setting everything up, he’d wanted to consult with her, but it would have meant outing himself.
“We needed . . . ? You paid for a shelter?” Her eyes went round. “Like, the whole fucking shelter?”
