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And then there’s Robert Walker’s life. His business. His shady friends, social events, and women.
The more I think about it, the more I realize how different our lives are.
Arguably Kai and I have a lot in common, but our lives couldn’t be more different.
He won’t be able to accommodate me for long. And why would he?
Maybe pulling me into his life has been his secret plan to get me accustomed to this type of high-octane living and make me want to live like him.
Just in case things get serious between us.
It’s smart, clever, and convenient.
I can still get a lot out of this experience even if things don't work out between us. Money. Connections. A new lifestyle.
Why do I have to think about it?
Because we’re slowly getting to that point. And I don’t know what will happen.
I don’t know if there will be an epilogue to all this.
What I do know is that I need to think about it even if it doesn't happen. And the more I ponder it, the more sadness grows in me. The more I know how unlikely it is to blend my life into his life. The more defeated I feel.
Maybe some things are just not meant to be.
And maybe this is my lesson.
I straighten and move a blank stare around the room.
I don’t know what to say to him.
“You should go home,” I murmur, my voice lined with disappointment. His eyes meet mine when I look at him.
“I don’t think we can fix this thing tonight,” I say. “I understand that what happened had nothing to do with you. I’m not talking about your father. I forgot about him, to be honest. I’m talking about everything else. But it’s too late. Too damn late…” I murmur, my gaze drifting down.
Why did it take him so long to come here?
I don’t want to ask him why. I’m pretty sure his answer won’t do much for me.
And then I open my mouth and speak.
“I talked to Alejandro this evening.”
I move my eyes to him.
He looks frozen, his eyes glinting in the dimness. Something tells me he suspects what went down. His instinct is razor-sharp when it comes to this.
He must know it was more than a casual conversation.
His face looks like it’s sculpted in ice.
“What did he say?”
“It’s not what he said…”
I stop.
“It’s how he made you feel…” he murmurs.
