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“I’m so sorry, Shane. I shouldn’t ha—”
He cut me off, peeking at me briefly, pressing his lips together into a forced smile, his voice soft. “It’s okay, Melanie.” He switched his attention back to the road. “It’s a heavy topic. Let’s not spoil the rest of the evening. The night is still young. We can do something much more entertaining than that. What do you say?”
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat at the thought of what Shane had to go through. Not to mention I was even more confused than before asking the question. Why would Shane’s mother commit suicide? As far as I was concerned, she had a loving husband, a beautiful son, and a good life. What pushed her to take her own life?
“I’m up, Mr. Vergoossen,” I said, trying to dispel the dark thoughts running through my head. “Actually, I have a surprise for you once we return to your place.”
“A surprise?” Shane smiled, his tone slightly seductive. “Do I get a clue what it is?”
“Nope,” I teased. “Let me be the mysterious one for once.”
He chuckled, and his face brightened up. I was glad I managed to lighten up the mood. He grabbed my hand, squeezing it in his, and we drove back to his penthouse, surrounded by the gleaming lights of Manhattan.
