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The monster in me was satiated when she left. Suddenly he turned to me. “I hate events.”
You hate everything.
I nodded for lack of anything to say.
“Hate this place too. Accompany me to get some fresh air.” He ordered more than he asked. I obliged.
As I trailed behind him to wherever I heard the voice over a speaker. Now uninterested in the event, I focused my attention on the man in front of me.
We reached a balcony. Quiet and somewhat isolated.
“How did you know where to go?”
He understood my question. “Gwendolyn wouldn't stop yapping about the hall.”
His light frown elicited a chuckle from me. “She hates it when you call her that.”
“I know.”
Silence carried by the cool breeze of the night settled between us. Somehow, it was comfortable. Just both of us here, reveling in the quiet of nature.
I liked the silence, but I missed the sound of his voice. Slowly, I turned to him; he was still facing forward.
“If…” I started. He turned to me. “…you hate events…why were you at the club the other night?”
The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what night I was talking about. The night in Minnesota.
“Needed to unwind.”
I wondered if it was from the stress of a deal or something else. “From what?”
He arched a brow. “Sometimes you don't need particular reasons to unwind, Evie.”
“But sometimes you do,” I countered softly. I didn't know what I wanted to hear, but perhaps I wanted to take advantage of this… cordial relationship and figure out a bit about him.
He stared at me for a moment before speaking. “I needed to unwind from the stress of the deal, work… and every other thing.”
Every other thing. Including Sophie? His late wife?
“You don't strike me as the type to unwind, though,” I added a little humor.
“You barely know me….”
Indeed, but I wanted to.
“…You can't keep making conclusions.”
Right.
“Certain experiences have shaped us… forced us to become who we are today.” He crossed a foot before the other.
“I'm sure you have witnessed such experiences.”
My chest heaved in sadness when I recalled Mom’s death, Dad’s decline, and Stephen’s attempt.
The first two did shape me. It forced me to work harder. To achieve dreams and give Dad the type of life he deserves. But the latter… though stuck to my memory, I didn't let it sink too deep.
“I have,” I breathed. “But it's our choice to let it shape us.”
