“After I leave this place, I’ll continue on the same path I was on before I met you.” When his lips parted, I held up a hand to stop him from saying anything. “Again, for good reason. Remember. You don’t know who I am. I don’t know who you are. For one week, we can pretend the past doesn’t matter. I can’t do that with someone back home. Not when my past has a permanent place in my present. And that trend will most likely continue far into the future.”
I tried to remain as vague as possible but still give him the curtesy of some sort of valid response to what I could only imagine to be a confusing set of circumstances. A part of me wanted to tell him the truth. Why things had to be this way. Why I had to walk away at the end.
A tiny ball of remorse had already begun to form in the pit of my stomach over that inevitability, but I had no choice. I refused to bring anybody into a tragic situation. And that was precisely what my life was. Worse than a Greek tragedy.
But in this alternate universe we’d created for ourselves, that didn’t matter. And for once in my life, I didn’t want it to matter. Didn’t want to live every day being weighed down by the biggest mistake of my life.
For one week, I wanted to be free.
Chris slowly brought my hand to his mouth, the gentleness with which he kissed my flesh achingly perfect.
“We’re more alike than you think,” he murmured against my skin.
“From where I’m sitting, we couldn’t be any more different.”
He let go of my hand and took a sip of his drink. “Let’s just say I know where you’re coming from.”
“I highly doubt that.” The words left me before I could stop them.
“Maybe not the details. But having a past you can’t escape… A past you’d give anything to forget, yet everywhere you turn, it follows you, reminding you of your biggest mistake…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple pronounced as it bobbed up and down. “Your biggest regret…,” he added on a subtle tremble, one most people wouldn’t notice. But for some reason, I seemed to pick up on the tiniest things about this man.
“Here we are,” our waiter said as he approached with the bottle of wine Chris had ordered to go along with dinner.
I welcomed the interruption as he presented the bottle to Chris, then opened it and poured a small amount into a glass, allowing him to taste it. Once he nodded, the waiter filled both our glasses, then retreated, letting us know our food would be out shortly.
Raising his glass, Chris met my gaze. “To jellyfish. I now have a renewed appreciation for those brainless bastards.”
My face warmed under the affection in his eyes as he peered at me. All he had to do was look at me like that and I was complete putty in his hands. There was nothing sinister or possessive about it. Instead, he admired me as if I were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. It made me want more of that.
But it wasn’t part of our arrangement.
And it never would be.
I wasn’t going to think about that, though. Tonight, I was going to pretend I was lucky enough to have caught the eye of a charming, enigmatic, handsome man.
To do anything less would be too heartbreaking.