Page 191 of The Night Shift
I cough again. Louder.
Theo’s back stiffens slightly, but he keeps talking to her.
Lisa touches his arm again.Iswear to God.
I cough even louder.
Theo finally gets the hint. “Oh, you know what?” He steps back slightly, smoothly enough that it doesn’t seem too obvious. “I just remembered I have an early morning meeting.”
Poor Lisa’s face falls just a fraction. “Are you sure? It’ll only take a second to make you a coffee.”
He gives her a regretful smile. “I appreciate that, really. But I should probably try to get some sleep.”
“Oh, well, um. Next time, then?”
Theo nods. “Of course, I’m counting on it.”
He turns toward me at last, composed as ever. The second we step into the elevator, I smack the button for our floor and cross my arms.
Theo exhales. “That was exhausting.”
“Really? It looked like you were having a great time withLisa.”
He gives me a slow, pointed look. “May I remind you, that you were the one who asked me to flirt with her in the first place?”
“I didn’t ask you to getherpregnant.”
The elevator dings. We step out, walking side by side in silence. It’s nearly three. In five hours, I have to meet April to go over my maid-of-honor speech that doesn’t exist.
When we reach our doors, I hesitate before mumbling a soft, “Thanks.”
Theo stops. Turns, eyes lighting with amusement. He cups a hand around his ear and bends down to meet my height. “Sorry, say that again?”
I smack the back of his head. “Do you want to be stabbed a third time?”
“You say it like that’s not my dream scenario.”
“You are sick.”
He grins, completely unbothered. “Goodnight, love.” He’s already halfway turned toward his door when I speak up.
“Aanya,” I say.
He tosses a look over his shoulder. “I’m sorry?”
“The girl in the frame that you stole. Her name was Aanya, not Audrey. But you already knew that.”
Silence drips like honey and something heavier.
He turns around completely. “What was she like?” he asks.
It takes me a second to understand why my throat closes like that. Or the weight of his question pulls something loose in my chest.
No one’s ever asked me that.
Not really.
It’s always been“I’m sorry for your loss,”or“that’s so awful,”or the long, awkward pause before someone changes the subject entirely.
