Page 91 of The Blind Date

"It was also your idea," I reminded him.

"I know that, too," he sighed and brushed his fingers through his hair, dropping my gaze once again. "I'm upset that my girlfriend went on a date with another man."

"Like I said before, it was a blind date, so it doesn't count. I also told you that my parents set me up. I had no idea about it. And as soon as my parents left, I told him that I had a boyfriend and that my parents don't know about you yet.”

He quirked an eyebrow at me. “And how did he take it?”

“Pretty well. He was just happy to get a free meal.”

“You bought him dinner?” He gaped, and I immediately regretted telling him that part. "How could you buy him dinner?"

“You can’t be serious right now,” I groaned, trying to reign in my frustration.

“You’re right. I was only joking about that part,” Cedric laughed but the sound was strained, and he ran a heavy hand through his hair. The sullen look that his face slowly transformed into told me that this conversation was far from over. “It still bothers me that you went on a date with someone else even if your parents set you up on it without you knowing. I’m struggling to explain this but, in my head, it all comes down to the fact that your parents would have never set you up on a blind date if they knew we were dating.”

I was silent for a moment, mulling over his words.

“Does it bother you that we’re keeping our relationship a secret?” I asked after some thought and the expression on his face told me I had hit the nail on the head.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” He countered.

“Not really,” I murmured and shook my head. “You’re the one that suggested it. Why would you suggest it if you knew it would bother you so much?”

"I didn't know,” he sighed and shook his head. "In all honesty, you're my first girlfriend after–" He caught himself before he was too forthcoming with his words. He cleared his throat before continuing as if he wasn't just about to open up to me for the first time. “I didn’t know it would bother me this much.”

Neither of us knew what to say, so we fell into an uncomfortable silence. Well, I knew exactly what I wanted to say, and the words danced on the tip of my tongue, but I had a feeling I would regret it, so I refrained.

Banishing my good sense to the back of my mind, I asked something I probably shouldn’t have. “Do you think this might be due to your messy divorce?”

Cedric froze and stared at me with wide, stormy eyes. “What?” His voice was eerily low, sending a shiver down my back.

“I’m assuming it was messy.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He was stubborn, but I refused to allow miscommunication to drive a wedge between us.

“Why not?” I persisted.

"It's a sensitive topic for me. Just drop it, darling. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Won’t you even tell me how long ago it was?” I asked, clearly not knowing when to stop.

“I got divorced five years ago,” Cedric admitted in a small voice.

Five years? I didn’t know Cedric all that well so far, but he didn't seem like the sort of person to be hung up over someone for such a long time, especially when things had ended badly between them. Whatever it was, it must have scarred him more than he was letting on. And that scared me for selfish reasons.

“I can see the look on your face.” His lips turned down even more at the corners.

“What look?”

“You’re judging me.”

“I’m not judging you,” I denied.

“Then you’re pitying me.”

"I'm not pitying you.”

"I can see it in your eyes."

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