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“Too long.”

“In retrospect, yes.”

“Was that your most recent significant other?”

“No. That was one I dated before I moved to Seattle.”

“Was your most recent ex so concerned over trivial things?”

“My most recent ex was mostly concerned with himself.”

Wow.

That was probably the most unforgiving thing I’d ever said about Brad.

Silas’s gaze cut to mine. “Was he recent?”

“It’s been, I don’t know, six months or so now, I guess.”

“Were you with him long?”

“About a year.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you with someone for a year who was only concerned with himself?”

“I… I loved him.”

Right?

That part was starting to be a little fuzzy.

“Did you?” Silas asked. “Or did you love the potential of a successful relationship?”

“Hey.” A slice of hurt slipped into my voice. “My life isn’t your radio show, Silas. I didn’t call in for advice.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But can I offer an observation?”

“Depends, is it going to make me want to run off into traffic?”

“Your mortal lives are entirely too short to waste a year of them with someone who doesn’t appreciate what he has.”

My heart surged at that.

“Careful, that was… almost romantic.”

“Romantic? No. Practical.”

I shook my head at him and reached for the radio. I sensed we were close to having a philosophical debate about relationships. And the last thing I needed was for him to connect me with Madison. Not when I was trapped in a steel box with him for the next eighteen hours.

For the next hour or so, I sat there silently, sipping my coffee and listening to the radio.

Silas seemed immune to the awkwardness I felt, but I imagined that when you lived as long as he had, you got used to the quiet.

Eventually, I reached for the book Grum had shoved at me while declaring it a ’Top-tier ‘90s historical romance.’