Page 10 of Waste of Worth

Dino found himself smiling again. “Oh?”

“Traffic is a bitch.”

He laughed, taken off-guard at her crass candor.

“No pictures today then?” he asked, walking toward her.

Karen glanced down at the camera, focusing on the screen as she pressed a button over and over. “I got the ones I wanted.”

Dino didn’t ask her for more information, instead, taking a seat beside her on the bench. “Why cemeteries?”

“Sundays are for cemeteries. Mondays are for birds and trees. Tuesdays are for people. See where I’m going with this?”

He did.

“Whatever catches your attention, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Karen said. “Of course, I have to feed myself and pay the rent on my loft, so the majority of my time is spent on people who pay.”

“Interesting.”

“You don’t sound interested,” Karen noted.

He was.

More than he could explain.

More than what was safe.

Quickly, Dino stood from the bench, brushing invisible dust from the arms of his suit. “Have a wonderful—”

“Did I say something wrong?”

He didn’t know how to explain it to her, but it wasn’t her that was wrong.

“No, but I have to go. It was nice seeing you again.”

Pleasant.

Cold.

Distant.

Dino didn’t know how to be any other way. He didn’t let people close because they didn’t stay that way for long. He didn’t think it was fair for them to be hurt because he was weak. He was far better at being alone, anyway.

No, it certainly wasn’t her that was wrong.

It was all him.

Karen was still peering at Dino with curiosity burning brightly in her gaze. “I’ll be here again next weekend.”

It was then that Dino knew this strange woman was interested in him, for whatever reason. How many times could she photograph the same cemetery?

It didn’t matter that he might like to know a bit more about her, too.

Or even why she was curious about him.

He wasn’t allowed to have things that made him happy—it had to be given. When he took happiness for himself, it was always ripped away.