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When I turned to face him, the dim light from the hallway lit up the side of his face. Exhaustion lined his features.
He looked like he’d aged a year in a day, and defeat—something I never thought I’d see on Bastian—looked inked on his skin.
“Sorry for waking you.” Always the asshole, he didn’t look sorry. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”
“You look tired.”
“My mind is racing.”
“Vincent?”
“Still missing. I don’t want to talk about it.” His ankle locked around mine.
“Tell me about the piano.” I let him pull my leg around his waist.
He’d taken off his clothes, so the only thing separating us were my panties, his boxers, and the Wharton School of Business shirt I’d stolen from his closet.
“Sometimes I play it. Sometimes I don’t.”
“Wow. So forthcoming. I think I’ll go to bed now.”
I shut my eyes and hoped he’d say something.
“It’s a relic of the past, and I can’t part with it.”
My eyes flew open at the confession.
How tired was he?
I traced a path along his face, taking in the way he stared at me like I was the only thing in the room.
“I don’t have any relics of my past,” I admitted.
“I’ve seen your place. It’s pretty bare. I just thought you’re either a minimalist or suck at managing your money and should ask for a refund on your Degory degree.”
I shoved his shoulder. “I just have nothing.”
Both in my fake apartment and my real one.
“Does that bother you?”
I considered giving him a bullshit answer, but for once in my life, I wanted to be real.
Not a liar.
Not a con.
Not Apate.
“Yes, but only because I want the memories attached to the object. My aunt raised me, but she never married and was always at work. There weren’t birthday parties and family Christmases. It was just us. Mostly me home alone, sometimes with a neighborhood grandma watching over me. I was given everything I needed, and I never asked for anything else. I always felt like a burden. Not because my aunt made me feel that way but because…”
I heaved a breath and relented. “Because my mom died giving birth to me, and that’s the biggest burden I can think of. I literally killed someone before I took my first breath in this world. So, when it came to things like pretty dresses and toys, I never felt like I deserved them. And now, I’m just used to not having anything, but not having anything and not having anyone means there are memories lacking in places my soul needs them.”
“You’re lonely.”
“I am.”
I felt bare before him.
