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“It looks like a nice house.” She was trying to be objective and failing.
“He thinks I’m clinging to the memory of my wife.”
“You don’t want to sell it,” she observed.
“I need more time,” he said. “I was supposed to put it up for sale while I’m here but…”
“You still miss her.”
A thick ball of emotion sat in his throat. “It’s not so much her I miss as the promise of what my life could be if she were still alive.” Felix didn’t know what made him more uncomfortable—his wife’s memories or Amara’s presence. His skin grew warmer when she was near. “Do you want to come inside?”
Her eyes grew larger. “Is that okay?”
“Yes. I’m going to have to face it someday.” Producing a key, Felix unlocked the front door, dislodging a cloud of dust. Amara sneezed. “I’m sorry. I forgot you were allergic.”
“I’m not allergic to dust, only pollen.” Amara barged ahead before he reconsidered his idea. The dusty wooden floors and white walls were dusty, but the house bore a sofa, tea table, dinner table, and several utensils in the kitchen. He had left behind a few items when he moved. He hadn’t disturbed the bed in the master bedroom or the one in the guest room, wanting to preserve his precious memories. The closed windows let in some fuzzy light. “It’s not too different from my house in Cadia.” Her footsteps left a trail on the dust-covered wooden planks. When she reached the kitchen, she stopped. Closing the door behind him, Felix stood next to her. She stared at the sink for a little too long. When he was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to speak, she said, “I dreamed of this yesterday.”
“My house?” He was surprised.
“My mother in the kitchen,” she said. Her eyes were in a trance and Felix suddenly felt a thread of intimacy connecting them. From the low tone of her voice, he knew it was personal. They’d never spoken about their grief before. Realizing she’d said too much, she added, “Should I pretend I don’t know your secrets?”
“It’s too late for that.”
Taking a step back, her back hit the wall. “She looked so real in my dream. When she held me and stroked my hair, I felt like this nightmare was over.” She scoffed. “It’s strange to think of reality as a nightmare.”
“You must miss her a lot.”
“I knew she couldn’t live forever. She was human and I’m a half-demon. But I guess nothing prepares you to lose someone you love. How long did it take you to feel normal again? To feel like you could deal with the real world without comparing everything to your wife?”
“A long, long time,” Felix said honestly. “I’m not sure I’m completely over it yet. The hardest part about grief isn’t letting go but moving on. Her death doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, but I wonder where I’m supposed to go from here. I’ll retire someday and there will come a time when the world no longer needs me. Maybe I should take up a hobby like reading or gambling.”
“Gambling?” Amara’s lips broke into a smile. Felix noticed how lush they were. The light sank into the crevices of her muted pink lips that were soft as a petal. He wondered what it’d feel like to press his lips to hers, to taste that softness, to nibble and bite her lush lower lip and feel lust warm his blood. “I think you’d be good at it. You have the best poker face I’ve seen.”
He laughed. She had no idea how many dirty thoughts he hid behind that poker face. “While I like the element of surprise, I fear the excitement might be too much for me. Not to mention I’ve visited most of those establishments as a spy. I’d be too busy thinking about all the lag being traded”
Her lips crooked up in a smile. “What about cooking? It’s a useful hobby.”
“I already cook,” he said. “It’s more of a chore than an outlet for passion.”
“If you want passion, you should have an affair.” The words were thrown around lightly but the moment they were out, they both stopped. Tension choked the air. Amara closed her eyes and his eyes immediately went to her fingers rubbing her collarbone uncomfortably.
“Who would I have an affair with?” His words were meant to dispel the tension but worsened it. Amara’s gaze wavered. He was no gambler but could bet they were both thinking the same thing.
No, no, no. This was a horrible idea. He couldn’t have an affair with his subordinate.
Last night’s scene must’ve damaged his brain.
“What about you?” he broke in. “Do you have any hobbies?”
“Reading,” she’s said.
“Ah, yes. Mrs. Dane wrote to me about it. She likes reading romantic literature. Are you a romantic at heart?”
“I must be. You need hope to keep you alive in this dreary world.”
“What about having an affair?” He had heard rumors about Amara’s affairs at work. However, Mrs. Dane had never mentioned anything about her personal relationships.
“Me? Having an affair?” A dark curl escaped from her ponytail, falling over her ear. He wanted to push it away and press his lips to the warm curve of her neck. Felix coughed. “Trust me, if one could have affairs with fictional characters, I’d be a most accomplished libertine. Unfortunately, real men are too complicated.”
