Page 99 of It Destroys Me

“That’s a nice one.”

“Yeah.” I’d left my old gallery when Theo had bought his own. I’d been running it ever since, needing something to do while he was at work all day. Life had been easy, so easy it was hard to believe it hadn’t always been this way.

We continued to talk about our day, and then a couple minutes later, our food was served. The waitress wasn’t the one who brought it, but the owner herself. Scarlett was in her chef’s jacket with her hair in a tight bun, and she placed the hot plates on the table with a smile. “My favorite customers. Decided to give your chef the night off?”

“More like satisfy a craving,” Theo said.

“You sound like my husband.” She looked at me. “You look hot in that dress.”

“Thanks. I always stick to black because that’s what Theo likes.”

“I’m sure you could stick to nothing, and he’d like that just fine.” She winked before she stepped away from the table. “Enjoy your dinner.”

We ate our dinner mostly in silence. A year living together had made most conversation unnecessary. We’d learned everything about each other and there was nothing new to uncover, but the heat burned just as hot as ever. I actually enjoyed the familiarity that was so comfortable we had no need to speak. We could just exist in the same place at the same time…and it was enough.

We finished the bottle of wine and devoured every piece of food on our plates. I always ordered her pasta dishes because they were top-notch. Wasn’t sure how she made them so good because she wouldn’t tell me how she did it. I bet she wouldn’t even tell Axel. That way, he would always be on her hook.

The waitress cleared the plates. “Dessert?”

“Sure,” Theo said. “Surprise us.”

The waitress left.

“I think I’ve seen you eat dessert like three times,” I teased.

“Axel told me Scarlett hired a new dessert chef, and I guess he’s a bit of a prodigy.”

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

“That’s all Axel ever talks about. It’s either Scarlett, his kids, personal shit I’d rather not hear, and the restaurant.”

“If that’s all that’s on his mind, then I’d say he’s living a good life.”

He nodded in agreement. “I’d say so.”

“Do you talk about me?” I asked.

“Of course I do.”

“I mean…the personal stuff.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as a smirk moved over his lips. “No.”

“It’s okay if you do?—”

“I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just think some things are better left unsaid.”

“So you’ve never talked about women with him?”

“Occasionally. Usually the whores I fooled around with.”

“So, why them and not me?”

“You sound offended.”