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Brian let out a chuckle. “The word there is think. I do not think, but I know. That is the difference. I am a rake, as you say. But that also means that I have no intent on marrying. Ever.” He made for the door. And then he opened it for her.
Harper pulled herself from the seat and connected her eyes with his. There was a pain in his. He was lying to himself, and she knew that. But why? It was one thing to believe that people could not change. But it was another to choose to not change. And his was a choice. He had shackled himself to an ideal and an identity.
The way that they had looked at one another in the doorway, Harper had felt sorry for him. But she could tell that it was the last thing he wanted from her. He wanted his solitude. And she found that to be ridiculous.
“You know the difference between a rake and a rake?” she asked.
“What?”
“One can choose not to be one. Which one are you?”
Harper took her leave after that.
