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His mouth quirks up just slightly. “No. You didn’t mind. I already faced some of it because I didn’t break all ties with your dad.”
“Why did you—?” I cut off my own question, not sure it’s appropriate for the nature of our relationship.
He must know what I was going to ask. “I don’t have many friends. I was a lonely rich boy—a typical cliché, I guess. But even as an adult, most of my acquaintances have been superficial. Your dad reached out to me. I knew immediately what his game was. I’ve always had good instincts about that kind of thing. He accepted my no without any resentment and didn’t stop being friendly. I liked that about him.”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes, picturing my dad’s face and smiling. “He couldn’t hold a grudge to save his life. And he really liked you. He would talk about how you weren’t fake at all and having a conversation with you was like going to college.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
I laugh softly. “It was from him.”
“I’ve had this...” He gestures toward the scar on his face. “Since I was thirteen. It taught me that much of the world values the superficial more than anything else. Your dad was one of the few who really tried to look beyond the surface with me.”
The words linger in the air of the car. Surrounding me. Filling me. Touching my heart. “Yeah.”
“That doesn’t excuse what your dad did, but I don’t much care what the rest of the world thinks about me. I managed to stay his friend while drawing boundaries about never helping him break the law or hurt other people—including you. But he’d actually been asking for my help in getting you into a better position, so I’d already come up with the job possibility for you, even before the car accident.”
My heart does a funny little jump. “So my dad was trying to find me a job?”
“Yes. He saw what a mistake he’d made with you and was desperate to give you a way out. He wasn’t a good man. We both know that. But he also wasn’t a monster, and you were his priority in his final days, Scarlett.”
I swallow over a tightness in my throat. Take a few deep breaths. “Thank you. For telling me that. And for trying to help back then. And for helping me now.”
“You’re welcome.”
There’s nothing else I can think of to say, and I’m too emotional to say it anyway. We drive in silence for half an hour. I lean my head back and close my eyes, pretending to be asleep.
When the car slows down, I open my eyes, needing to see what’s going on. We’ve pulled off the highway and onto a two-lane road. We follow this road for about ten more minutes until we reach the Worthing estate.
It feels like my hair is messy from leaning it against the headrest, so I pull down the visor mirror to check. My medium-brown hair is straight and longer than I remember. It’s well past my shoulders now. I smooth down a few flyaways. My eyes are brown too—more amber than Arthur’s chocolate brown. My features are regular. Nothing special. My eyebrows really need plucking, and there’s still a visible bruise on one side of my forehead and cheekbone.
With a sigh, I flip the visor back up and glance over to discover Arthur was watching me peer at myself. “Still me,” I say wryly.
“Yes. You are.”
There’s an edge of texture in his final word that makes my chest clench. His face works very briefly before it settles back into his normal aloof composure.
“What is it?” I blurt out.
“What is what?”
“What’s going on? It feels like there are all these secrets you aren’t telling me. You aren’t... You aren’t acting like you used to with me. What’s going on? Please tell me!”
“All the doctors have said you’re supposed to remember naturally. We can’t force you.”
“I know what they said, but it’s not fair to leave me in the dark. It feels like I’m... I’m floundering. Why are you acting...?” I suck in a hoarse gasp. “Why are you acting weird?”
His jaw tenses again. He’s staring ahead at the curvy road. He takes a few breaths so thick I can hear them.
“Please.”
He gives his head a little shake and turns back to meet my gaze, says in his natural voice, “There aren’t big secrets. This is strange and difficult for me too. You’ve been living and working with me for six months. We... We got to know each other. I was very worried when I found you on the floor of the library. And I’m still worried for you now. I know I’m not the one going through it like you are, but this isn’t entirely easy for me either. If you’re picking up on odd nuances, that’s probably what they are.”
“Oh.” I pause. Think. I never imagined actually being Arthur Worthing’s friend. “So we were... We were... friendly?”
He inclines his head slightly in that short nod he uses a lot.
“Oh.” I shift in my seat, feeling the most ridiculous flutter of pleasure.
