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It’s a start.Laying the groundwork, as my therapist would say. I was already mentally planning to get him in to see his own therapist as soon as all this was over. Maybe my therapist could refer him to someone who specializes in PTSD related to family trauma? Whatever Ansel needed, I would be there for him every step of the way.
Chapter twenty-five
Anselliftedhismenuto stare at it. The mood in the room had lightened, only a little, but enough for me to feel like I could breathe again. “So . . . do you have any siblings?” he asked, still reading the menu.
His question caught me off guard. It was such a normal, first-date question. And nothing about our relationship so far has been normal.
Yet it’s the healthiest relationship you’ve ever been in.
I picked up my menu and started studying it as well. I could tell this place was fancy just by the ingredients they used, half of which I didn’t even recognize: foie gras, gooseneck barnacles, abalone?
“I have a sister,” I replied. “Just one. She’s only a few years younger than me. She has a husband and two kids—my two nieces. My sister, Mal, used to be a lawyer at some big corporation but quit to stay at home with the kids after having her second one.”
Ansel set down his menu to stare at me. “You don’t like her?” he asked.
Was my disdain that obvious? Or it was just impossible for me to hide anything from Ansel? “I don’t dislike her. She just has it all, you know? The husband. The house.”And now the beach house, according to my mom.“Kids. And to top it all off, she’s gorgeous, smart, wears the best clothes, and is so funny. She’s the worst to bring to parties; by the end of it she has half the room clutching their sides from laughing too much and the other half completely in love with her.” I shook my head, mentally reminding myself to reel in the jealousy. “I’m happy for her, I really am. I just . . . would be so happy with one-tenth of what she has. But what did I get instead? An eight-year long relationship that ended up being a complete sham. Now I get to enjoy having my mom call me every week reminding me to freeze my eggs or I’ll never have kids. Of course, when she’s not reminding me how perfect Mal’s life is.”
So much for easy date questions. I straightened in my seat, anxious to get the attention off me.
“I have a younger sister too,” Ansel said before I had time to ask my question. The corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. “She’s a pain in my ass too. Drives me crazy. No matter how old they get, they’re always the annoying little sister. She’s fifteen years younger than me and completely out of control. And that’s a lot coming from me, who up until this last year redefined the meaning of ‘out of control’.”
Color me surprised. I had assumed Ansel was an only child. I was just glad to hear she was alive. “Where is she now?”
“Homeland. She’s living in my family’s clan with a few distant relatives. I sent her on the first plane out of here the day our parents were killed. It’s not ideal, and we don’t get to talk very often thanks to the poor reception over there, but she’s safe.” Ansel answered my question before I had the chance to ask it. “I know my parents moved away from the clan for my safety, but women are protected there. They’re not at risk of being randomly killed. Like I said, it’s not ideal, I’d rather have my sister close so I could keep an eye on her, but I couldn’t risk Gregor kidnapping her and using her as leverage to get to me. Or worse.” He sighed. “She’s safe right now and that’s all that matters.”
“What’s her name?”
“Briar.”
I nodded. I could sympathize with Ansel’s inclination to keep his sister safe, especially after losing both his parents. But my heart ached for Briar. She not only had her entire family ripped away from her but was sent to live in a different country to grieve the death of her parents alone.
I hoped she was okay.
There was a light knock outside the door. The waiter poked his head in and asked if we were ready to order. Ansel waved him in, and the waiter entered, wielding a bottle of wine—compliments of Martin, he told us—and took our order.
Still unable to decipher most of the food on the menu, I ended up ordering what Ansel ordered as well. After taking our menus and tucking them under his arm, the waiter uncorked our bottle and filled my glass to the brim. Good man. When he offered to pour for Ansel, the orc politely declined. I was practically giddy when the waiter left the entire bottle on the table for me to enjoy.
It didn’t matter how good the food was, I was just happy to have wine again.
It really had been too long since I had wine. That, or the alcoholic content in this specific bottle was crazy high. Whatever the reason, I was feeling pretty buzzed after polishing off my first glass. Normally I’d be two glasses in before my chest and limbs started feeling this warm.
“To no distractions!” I said to Ansel, raising my newly filled glass in a mock toast. He saw how much I was fumbling to raise the bottle and decided to take over and pour for me, saving me from spilling red wine everywhere.
Ansel didn’t raise his glass of water. Instead, his thick brows pushed together, giving me a quizzical look. “No distractions? Why are we toasting that?”
“Because you need to keep a clear mind. You need to focus on your mission, so that means no distractions, no indulgences, no alcohol, no sex.” I paused to give him a goofy but knowing smile. “Remember that night we had beer? That distraction led to even more distractions. But I promise to not distract you any further until Gregor is dead.”
“Do you think you’re a distraction?” he asked me.
The question surprised me. Wasn’t that what he’d been telling me this entire time? There was too much alcohol pumping through my blood that it took me a long minute to digest his words and spit out an answer. “Yes. That’s why we haven’t had sex yet. You need to stay focused on the mission. Then after Gregor is dead, we can see where this goes.” I would like to think it was the wine making me so brazen—I didn’t even know if Ansel wanted a relationship—but the words just flowed out easily. Everything felt so easy with him.
“Shit,” Ansel hissed out. My chest tightened. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but I definitely wasn’t expecting him to curse.
Something was wrong. Really fucking wrong. My heart squeezed in my chest to the point of pain. “Ansel,” I said weakly. “Talk to me.” The room started to sway, and I couldn’t tell if it was the wine, an oncoming panic attack, or a fun mixture of both.
Ansel glared at the table, refusing to meet my eye. I wanted to reach out and touch him—he looked so tense—but I remained frozen, my shaking hands resting in my lap.
“Skye, you are so beautiful, inside and out. You have such a good heart with so much love to give . . .”
