Page 61 of It Hurts Me
“What do you recommend?”
“Axel almost ordered everything on the menu, so I’d say you’re safe with anything.”
“Is that who you came here with?”
He nodded. “Scarlett was the head chef for the night, so he wanted to eat here.”
“Doesn’t she cook at home?”
“I asked the same thing, but I guess she doesn’t cook a lot these days with two kids running around. Best time to get some of her cooking is when she’s at the restaurant. He got one entrée to eat in the restaurant and one to go.”
I smiled. “That’s cute.”
“He’s definitely her biggest fan.”
“I love that.”
The waitress returned with our drinks then asked for our orders. Theo stuck to his decision with the chicken, so I opted for a pasta. Then we were left alone again, the two of us in the back corner, the sound of chitchat coming from behind me.
When he removed the glass cover from his drink, a billow of smoke rose toward the ceiling. He breathed in the smoke like it was air then took a drink. “It’s a drink and a cigar in one.”
“Two bullets, one heart.”
He cocked his head slightly.
“Something my husband says.” I wished I’d just lied and said I’d heard it somewhere else, but I wasn’t the kind of person who could just bullshit off the cuff. “Two birds, one stone. Basically the same thing.”
He grabbed his glass and took another drink, letting my words settle into the silence.
I waited for the awkwardness to dissipate like the cloud of smoke had. It took a long time for it to move, but eventually, it did. “You like this place, then?”
“Scarlett is a talented chef.”
“Did she train anywhere?”
“No. She’s a natural. Just how you’re a natural painter.”
A flush of heat entered my neck and cheeks. “You’ve barely seen my work.”
“But I can see what you’re trying to capture.”
“What am I trying to capture?” I asked.
He stared at me across the table for a long time, his fingers around the cool glass. “Grief.”
A pain shot through my chest and both arms, like I’d been caught with one hand in the candy jar. My face remained as stoic as ever, but I felt a sudden panic deep inside me. Like my lies had been spilled. My truth had been told. “Why do you think that?”
“Because I can see it.” He hadn’t blinked since the start of this conversation. “You said you paint moments. I think I know what moment you painted.”
After Bolton had asked for an open marriage, I’d ended up at a coffee shop on my lunch break. For some reason, it hit me there, sitting by myself, that I would probably die alone…even if I were still married. My world had been shattered by Bolton’s request, and even though I loved him with all my heart, I knew it would never be the same.
Theo continued to see right through me with a discerning gaze, seeing my flesh and bone and the blood in between. He should be just a good lay, a warm body next to mine in a cold bed, a distraction from my loneliness, a form of revenge against the man who crushed me, but he somehow felt like more than that. “I’m sorry.”
My eyes flicked down to my drink.
“But I’m not sorry that you’re here with me.”
When we finished dinner, our plates were totally clean.