Page 36 of Silent Is The Heart

I remember when I first met him, how disgruntled and bitter he seemed. And yet, I could tell there was genuine kindness and optimism about him, hiding inside that scared kid who’d been through hell.

It no longer seems cold in here, but I haven’t touched the thermostat. The most unlikely man just filled my house with warmth. All those good qualities I saw are still in there, no matter what the years have done to either of us.

I make a vow that this is the last time I’ll cry. For this month, at least.

“Thank you,” I whisper, choking on the overpowering sensation of being so undeserving.

I’m not thanking him, though. I know he wouldn’t want it. My decree is addressed to life for bringing us together.

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER 19

Easton

If I hurry, I can make it across town before he gets home. Ripping my nitrile gloves from my last job off as I head into the office, I ignore how much that sounds like planning. I’m spontaneous. Always have been. Even spontaneous people do a little planning.

Tossing my gloves in the trash can, I call out to Wolf, where he’s updating our website on his computer.

“I’m going to head out for dinner. I’ll be back by seven.”

“Seven?That’s a long dinner.”

Snorting, I ignore him and check my hair in the mirror on the wall. It’s starting to curl again the way it does after my hair gel has worn off for the day. I’m not running upstairs for more. Rinsing my hands in the sink in our private half-bath, I wipe them over my head to tame down my flyaways. There. Good enough.

Walking back into the office, I head to my desk and open my top drawer to find my breath spray. I give my tongue a spritz and then grab my can of deodorant, misting the underside of my arms underneath my shirt, trying to remember if I forgot anything.

I sense a presence in front of me and look up to find Wolf. His face looks like it does each time one of those commercials for women’s underwear pads plays on TV.

“Where are you going?”

“Dinner,” I say louder. Did he not hear me?

“For three hours? It’s not even four o’clock yet.”

Scoffing, I level him with a look. “It’s a Melissa-length dinner. You know, the kind you like to takeevery fucking day.”

Huffing, his face goes red. “I do not.”

Delusional. So delusional.

Snatching up the shopping bag on my desk, I head to the door, but something holds me up.Hey, watch it,I sign in his line of vision when I find him gripping the bag, prying it open to look inside.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, pulling one of the puzzle boxes out of the bag.

“A chemistry set, clearly.”

Taking it from him, I stuff it back into the sack. Since when he did get all handsy?

“Are you going back to Aaron’s?”

“No, I joined a puzzle club. We’re ranked top in the state. I’ll give a shoutout to S&H when we win the televised championship.”

I’m nearly free, one foot out the door when his urgent call hits my back. “Easton!”

Ugh. If he starts asking me about web banners and ad spaces again, I’m going to spike his root beer. I handle the books. He handles the marketing. That was the deal when we opened the place, but he’s always trying to pick my brain about his side of the business. So freaking needy.

What?I sign impatiently.

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