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“By the way,” he says, starting to dig into his meal with an air of casualness I’m almost envious of, “I do have a question for you.”
“What?” I ask, almost hoping he will say something to rekindle my anger.
He doesn’t. “Back at Ian McCullough’s wedding, you mentioned how you’re irritated by weddings. I’m curious about that.”
There’s no way I’m telling himsomething I’ve never told anyone before, not even Andrea. I’m entirely sure of that…until I meet his blue, probing eyes.
I’ll sell my kidney if it means he’ll stop looking at me like that. Andmaking me feel this way. I’ll do anything to keep him distracted.
To keep myselfdistracted. Even if it means telling him something I’m almost embarrassed about.
“My parents have a truly blissful marriage that many aspire to, but few achieve,” I share with him. His intense gaze softens, and a wave of relief washes over me.
I need to keep talking. And so, I do.
“My mom has always been inquisitive about my dating life,” I continue. “She was a depressed, unhappy young woman who was shunted from foster home to foster home. My dad didn’t have a great childhood either. And then, they met and became everything they could for each other. Love changed her life, and she’s always hoped the same thing would happen to me.”
“You don’t think so,” Bran notes mildly.
I pause, newly aware of how this feels more like a date and less like a battlefield. For the first time since I met Bran, I’m telling him the pure, unabashed truth about myself. And it does not feel as scary as I thought it would.
“I don’t,” I admit. “Because while I appreciate love for all it is, my parents are awfully codependent. They are the light in each other’s lives. For a great part of my childhood, I never had to worry about what would happen if my parents fell out of love—I already knew they wouldn’t. But I do worry about what would happen if one of them died. They can’tlive without each other.”
Bran stays silent, looking at me.
A small sigh escapes me. I’m baring my heart to him in a way I’ve never done, even to myself. And yet, I like it. It’s like a therapy session where I’m allowing myself to finally understand why the concept of marriage irritates me.
“I never want to give anyone that power over me,” I admit. It almost feels as though these words have been waiting for years to be said.
I look up at Bran, feeling stupid, wondering if he’ll have a smirk on his face. But he doesn’t.
“I do get that,” he says. “Only, I believe that people in love see it differently. They don’t fall in love because they fear it will end someday. They fall in love because they think that ifit ends, it would have been worth it.”
I look down at my plate, impressed despite myself.He’s right,I think, realizing this is the second time I’ve thought that in less than one hour.
I glance at him, almostappreciating him as someone other than a cocky billionaire. I’d have never thought that Brandon Stawarski could be a good listener.
And I never want to think that again,I remind myself.
I straighten up, recalling the only reason I came on this date. I did not come to bond with this man or tell him about myself. I came to gather information.
“Your turn,” I say. “Why is your brother running for Congress?”
I wait for his eyes to fill with suspicion, for him to give me a carefully guarded, curated answer.
But he only shrugs. “Because he’s a middle-aged man running out of things to do.”
I fight not to let my surprise show. What?Did Brandon Stawarski say that,knowing there was a massive chance I could write ten articles from that line alone?
“You got it right,” he says, a tiny smile on his face. I try to detect a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but he’s being sincere. “While my brother does want to help people, he’s not driven by an innate passion like the Obamas or Nelson Mandela. We’re both over forty, and when you’re this age and you see many people your age settling—even those that you never thought would, like Ian McCullough—you start to wonder what your calling in life is. You start to wonder if you made a mistake not marrying like the rest. Not settling, not having kids. And it pushes you to want to do something meaningful.Politics is how Theodore wants to get that out of his system.”
My entire body is alight with surprise. Brandon is speaking the truth about his brother’s campaign. Preciselythe same things I’d been saying all this while.
I open my mouth to accuse him of being pissed at me for writing the truth about his brother…
Until I remember that Brandon has neversaid anything negative about my articles. All he did was send flowers thanking me for telling the truth…Flowers I’d trashed instantly,I think, with a guilty feeling in my stomach. But he’d always been perfectly cordial towards me, despite every negative thing I’d written about the campaign.
I glance at him. Is it possible that I’m wrong? That he’s not a liar? I think back to all our conversations over the past month. He hasn’t said anything to me that was an outright lie.
