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"You're engaged?" His voice carried a hint of disbelief, mingled with regret.
"Yesterday," I confirmed.
"Isn't it a little early for engagements?" Ty's inquiry hung in the air, his expression betraying a mix of disappointment and sorrow.
"We've been together for three months," I explained, the weight of our whirlwind romance evident in my tone.
In Ty's eyes, I detected a longing, a desire unspoken yet palpable, and I knew that beneath his facade of familiarity lay a heart yearning for something more.
"Does he know how lucky he is?" Ty's words echoed with a sincerity that touched my soul.
"I think he does," I replied.
"I wish it was me," Ty confessed.
"Ty, you know we could never be," I stated softly, the truth hanging heavy between us.
"Why, because we've known each other forever?" Ty's question lingered in the air, a poignant reminder of the intricacies of our shared history.
I reached out to clasp his hand. “Yes. I’m sorry if that hurts you.”
"I guess I can understand," he conceded, his tone laced with a hint of resignation.
"Haven’t you been dating?" My question hung in the air, laden with curiosity.
"I have no time for dating. I’ve been busy, and your father’s case is taking most of my free time," he explained, a sense of weariness creeping into his voice.
"You've been working on it for weeks," I observed, my brows furrowing with concern.
I was afraid of what he might unearth. I wanted my father’s murder to be solved, but Ty had no idea he was dredging up long buried emotions in me. I wanted to tell him to stop.
"I have a few clues. If you remember anything, now would be the time to tell me," he said.
"What do you have?" I asked.
Before he could respond, we were interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, her presence a temporary reprieve from the weighty conversation. If Ty wanted to delve into the murky waters of my father's murder, I knew I'd need something stronger than a glass of water. With a decisive nod, I ordered a martini with extra olives, while Ty opted for soda.
"Are you okay?" Ty's concern was palpable, his eyes searching mine for reassurance.
I just need something to take the edge off if you want to discuss this," I confessed, a sense of vulnerability seeping into my words.
"We don’t have to," Ty offered, his voice gentle.
"I know you want to, so just tell me," I urged, my voice steady despite the unease gnawing at me.
"Years ago, we couldn’t get a good enough picture even with the digital equipment. Things have improved, and we’re working on enhancing the pictures," Ty explained.
"So why do you need me to identify the person?" I questioned, a flicker of doubt clouding my thoughts.
"Because we need corroboration," Ty clarified, his gaze unwavering.
"Ty, I don’t know. This is crazy," I admitted, uncertainty coloring my words.
As the waitress brought our drinks, I wasted no time in downing half my martini in two swift gulps, the liquid burning a trail down my throat as I sought solace in its numbing embrace.
"We’re so close. Would you consider the hypnotist?" Ty's question hung in the air, a subtle yet persistent reminder of the lengths we were willing to go to seek justice.
"I don’t know. I’m not going to remember," I protested weakly, the thought of unlocking buried memories sending a shiver down my spine.
