Page 41 of Waste of Worth

He was well aware that statement didn’t come out of the blue.

“I don’t,” he offered blandly.

Karen frowned, her gaze turning back on her task as she swiped strips of the cut peppers into a small bowl before setting them aside. “You’ve probably spent what, a couple weeks’ worth of nights at my place, right?”

Dino shrugged. “Probably. Why?”

“You do realize you’re not a small statured man, yeah?”

“Get to the point, Karen.”

She gave him a pensive look over her shoulder that told him to cut the attitude without even saying a word out loud. It wasn’t that he meant to be rude, but Dino knew exactly where this conversation was leading to, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to have it with her.

At least, not right now.

He wasn’t saying never—just not in that moment.

Apparently, Karen was not even close to being on the same wavelength as Dino.

“You walk the halls a lot at night,” Karen said, keeping her back turned to him. “I’ve caught you a couple of times when you’re just staring out the window, and I’ve even called your name, but you didn’t answer me.”

Dino’s throat tightened at the revelation.

Sometimes, he didn’t even need to sleep for the memories to suffocate him.

Sometimes, the darkness of the night was enough to do the deed.

“I don’t have insomnia,” Dino repeated, firmer the second time.

Karen nodded, but didn’t reply.

His words were the truth.

Falling asleep and staying asleep were not the problems for him.

It was what happened when he was already there and couldn’t get himself awake again.

“You did seem quite peaceful earlier,” Karen said softly, still working away, “and I could tell you were tired when I woke up this morning, so I didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s fair.”

“Was it a good sleep?”

Her question was innocent enough.

“It was, actually,” he admitted.

Karen turned then, a brilliant smile coloring up her features. The sunlight coming in through the small kitchen window almost created a haloed effect around her small form.

If Dino was ever asked to give just one thing to describe what happiness looked like to him, it would be Karen in that moment.

The feeling was profound to him.

Almost foreign.

“Hungry?” she asked.

“I could eat,” he replied, “if you’re cooking.”