Page 25 of Tell Me No Lies

I press my lips together, realizing Myra might know exactly why I'm sitting here. "Touché."

She wiggles around in the seat, crossing her legs before motioning to my braced foot. "Prop that up on my knee. You’ve gotta keep it elevated or it's going to keep hurting."

I roll my eyes but do as she says. "Yes, mom."

Myra gives me a little smile as she helps me get into position. Once we’re both settled, we shamelessly stare across the side yard, watching as Tate and Simon move on to the walls. Their conversation hasn't been continuous, but it has been somewhat animated at times. Makes me wish I was just a little closer so I could try to read their lips. "What do you think they're saying?"

Myra shakes her head. "I don't know. Probably something about what a pain in the ass it is to renovate a house."

I huff out a little laugh. "That's probably why it's taking him so long."

Myra's expression falls a little, and her eyes drift back next door. "I don't think that's why."

My brows lift in surprise. "You don't?"

She shakes her head. "I think his house is a reflection of how he feels. How he sees his life."

I turn back to the window, assessing the state of the home next door. "He sees his life as unfinished?"

"He sees his life as empty. Lonely." Myra lifts one hand, pushing up one of the slats to give her a better view. "He probably expects it will always be that way."

I was sort of following her right up until that last bit, but I can't imagine Tate thinks he will always be lonely. The man can be pretty dense, but there's no way he can't recognize how much he has to offer. He's more than a little good-looking. Has a successful business. He's stable and smart and driven. "I don't think Tate would have a hard time finding someone to keep him company."

"You might be surprised." Myra's voice takes on a sad edge. "I'm not sure how easy it is to find someone who understands him. When you’ve been raised a certain kind of way, it can be hard to assimilate. No matter what you do, it feels like you'll never quite belong. Like you'll never genuinely be understood."

"But Christian was raised kinda the same way and he found Lydia." I don't like thinking of Tate being lonely. I definitely don't like the thought of him struggling to feel understood. I’m already struggling with him living in that house like it is, and thinking of him feeling isolated and misunderstood on top of it makes my stomach twist.

"But Christian didn't find someone who simply understands his past. He found someone who shares his past." Myra's face turns back to the window. "If that's the case, and Tate has to find someone who was raised the same way he was, the chances are pretty slim it will ever happen."

"Then maybe you and Tate should get together." The words fly out of my mouth, jumping off the bite of jealousy.

Is that why Myra came down here? To stare at Tate because she thinks he’ll understand her and she'll understand him? That they could be happy like Christian and Lydia?

The possibility has me wondering how hard it would hurt if I kicked someone with my ugly-ass brace. Not them, me. My foot is already aching, but a little added pain might help distract me from the thought of Myra and Tate together. They would probably make a perfect pair, and that has my insides churning.

Myra seemed to have a stubborn streak when she first came here, but as time passed, she started to be sweeter and softer like Lydia. She knows how to cook. She knows how to clean. She's gentle and calm and everything I will never be. And maybe she's everything Tate would ever want.

My eye starts to twitch and my ears get hot.

Just as my reactive nature has visions of violence swirling through my head, Myra snorts.

"No offense, but Tate doesn't do it for me." One side of her nose scrunches up like she’s grossed out by the suggestion. "At all." She goes back to watching out the window. "I'm sure he's a nice guy, but he's a little hotheaded, and I'm not sure I would handle that well."

My own hotheadedness simmers down, doused out by Myra's admission. "Just because he's hotheaded doesn't mean he's a bad person."

"I know." Myra gives me a sly smile as she turns my way. "You're hotheaded and I know you're a good person. I'm just not at a point where I think I would deal with a man like that well. I want someone who’s careful with me." Once again her focus goes back to the open windows across the yard. "Someone gentle and calm."

I follow the path her eyes keep taking and discover she's not tracking Tate. Myra's attention has always been on the man I've barely noticed was there. It makes me relax a little more and feel a small sense of camaraderie with her. Like we both have the same sort of secret.

And strikingly similar reasons we want to keep it.

But while Myra has decided someone like Tate isn't who she wants, this conversation makes me think someone like Tate is who I need. I know Myra would be surprised to discover my past isn't as different from hers as she thinks. I just chose a very different path of escape.

And a very different way of moving forward.

"So Tate, huh?" Myra lifts her brows, leaning my way without moving her eyes. "I can't say I didn't see it coming."

"Really?" I frown as I try to understand what could have given it away. "But we fight all the time."

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