Page 212 of Breaking the Rules
"Is it?"
"Yeah." He pours olive oil on the pan. Grabs the handle and tilts the pan so oil slides over the surface. "You're a strong woman. You know what you want. You don't take shit. Guys your age are dumb boys. They aren't gonna be able to handle you."
"Maybe."
"Probably can't even handle their own laundry."
That's true. But it's not encouraging. It only digs thatwe can't happenknife into my chest.
Maybe I've got it wrong.
Maybe this is his subconscious taking over.
He wants me to know how desirable I am.
He wants me.
He just—he has to connect the dots.
"Guys can be idiots."
He pours the eggs over the pan. "That guy who was at your old place. Was he like that?"
What?
How the—
Fuck.
His voice is even.
There's no sign he knows.
But then…
Why else would he mention it?
"Vinnie?" I ask.
He nods.
"No. He was older. Wiser. Worldly."
"Did you like that?"
"Yeah." My chest tightens. "He made me feel smart. Special. But I… he wasn't really the best guy."
"What happened?"
"He just didn't…" I can't tell him. I want to. But I can't. I can't say it out loud. And I definitely can't have him looking at me like a victim. "You know when you really like someone, you see their flaws through rose-tinted glasses."
He nods.
"Eventually, they broke. I realized he was condescending and pretentious. That he didn't respect me. That he saw me as a silly plaything."
As someone who wouldn't fight back.
I guess he was right.
