Page 71 of It Hurts Me

“That’s a nice payday.”

I put my money in a separate account from Bolton’s because he said he didn’t want my money, but he always shared everything he had with me. I didn’t need to earn money, so it just built up in the account over time. Sometimes I spent it on expensive clothes and shoes, splurge items I didn’t need, even though Bolton was happy to pay for those things.

Just six weeks ago, I would have been so grateful to have Bolton as my husband. I would have questioned how I got so lucky to find someone like him to love me and care for me. But now, it was as if our years of bliss had never happened.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I swallowed and cleared my voice. “I just wasn’t expecting you, is all.”

He turned to look at me directly, his eyes absorbing my stare the way it did over dinner. “I was driving by and saw you in the window. Looked like you were having a hard day.”

He saw past the distance, saw past the glare on the windows from the sunshine, because my misery was like a beacon from a lighthouse to a ship stranded in the dark sea. I wanted to lie and reject his assumption, but I couldn’t.

“If my being here crosses the line, I’ll leave.”

“No,” I said quickly. “If I wanted you gone, I’d tell you.”

The smile on his lips was so subtle it was hardly visible, remembering the words he’d said to me on our first night together. “Let me take you to lunch.”

We went to a café down the block, sat outside because it was a warmer day after all the rain we’d had the last week. The restaurant was on the corner, the other tables full of people who were enjoying their lunch breaks.

I ordered a latte and a croissant, not having much of an appetite the last few days.

He ordered a coffee and a sandwich.

Conversation between us had been limited. His intuition really was borderline supernatural because he seemed to know exactly how to treat me, how to tiptoe around my misery rather than confronting it head on. He didn’t hit with me a slew of questions. He just let me be. Absorbed the misery with me.

“Is that your second lunch or your first?” I asked, wanting to break the last ten minutes of silence.

“First.” He took another bite and chewed with that big mouth, looking sexy as he worked his jaw and tightened the cords in his neck.

“Where were you going when you saw me?”

“A meeting.”

“If you’re here, then what happened to the meeting?”

He shrugged. “I’m sure they’re still waiting for me.”

Guilt filled my lungs like smoke. “Theo, I don’t want to keep you?—”

“I’d rather be here with you.” He sat there, a man too big for the little chair, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose because of how bright it was. One ankle rested on the opposite knee, and he carried himself with a relaxed posture. “I’m not asking you to talk about it. Sometimes the peaceful silence of a friend is more comforting than a heavy conversation. Whichever you prefer is fine with me.”

I looked at the beautiful man across from me—and didn’t see a friend.

When I came home, Bolton was on the phone. “Yes, I’ll bring her along. I’m sure she and Abigail will hit it off.” He finished the call and hung up.

I set my purse on the counter and slipped off my heels so the arches in my feet would have a break.

Bolton exited his study and walked up to me, his eyes turning guarded once he drew near. “How was work?”

Theo appeared in my mind, across from me at the café, a silent comfort like the paintings in the gallery. “It was fine. What was that about?”

“I’m having dinner with a client. I’d like you to come with me.”

“It sounds like your client wants me to come with you.”

His eyes flashed with a quick look of irritation, but he pushed it away. “He’s bringing one of his women, and she’d like company over dinner.”