Page 48 of Bitter Truths

“Excellent. This way?”

“Yes,” I say, falling in beside him as he starts down the path.

“It’s getting cold early this year,” he remarks, and I shiver.

“Yeah, I don’t like the cold much.”

“No? I love it. Reminds me of home.”

“Where’s that?” I ask curiously.

It’s probably no surprise that I know very little about him. After all, he isn’t paid to talk about himself, and this brief glimpse is thrilling in a weird way because it’s a chance to see behind the curtain.

“New York.”

My smile slips, and I turn my gaze because regret is pressing at my sternum, and once again, I’m caught out. “I’ve never been, but if I had gone to art school, I would be there now.”

Every part of my world has changed since high school, and now, no matter how much I grasp at the dreams I once had, they’re just out of my reach.

“It’s fun. Maybe you’ll get there someday,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“So, how come you’re not out with your friend? Aaron, isn’t it?”

Shrugging, I rub my arms against the chill in the air. “I didn’t feel like going out.”

“You’re young. You should be having fun,” he chides, and I give him an incredulous look.

“You’re not exactly old. Why aren’t you out with someone?”

His mouth curves in a wry smile. “Ah, you’ve discovered my secret.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m an old man at heart.”

Laughing, I smack his arm, and he skips away with a chuckle.

“Whatever. Don’t you have a girlfriend? A wife?”

“No, it’s just me, myself, and I,” he says.

“Oh.” Glancing at his face, I realize he’s not bad-looking. He has thick blond hair and pretty blue eyes, and although I’ve never noticed it before, he’s lean and fit. I guess Aaron was right, as usual. “What’s the matter? You tell ‘em you’re a shrink, and they run?”

Laughing, he runs his hand through his hair, and the gesture is so like Griffin that my stomach spasms. “No, nothing like that. How did we get on this subject?”

“Well,” I say, with a sassy shrug, “it’s only fair. You ask me some pretty deep questions.”

“True,” he says, giving me a contemplative look. “Okay, fire away.”

“What?”

“Go ahead, ask me anything you want to.”

“Really? Oh, um, okay. Have you ever been in treatment?”

“Wow, straight to the good stuff, eh?” he says, his eyes dancing.

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