“My first husband kept secrets,” said Tia Ezzie. “That’s what killed our marriage.”
Mila paused, the mug halfway to her mouth. “Like what?”
She held Mila’s gaze. “Stuff in his past he wouldn’t tell me, even after we’d been together for years. He was like a book with chapters torn out. I never felt like I knew him.”
She rested the mug in her lap. Good thing most of the tea was gone because her hand was shaking. Had her quirky little tia, who loved to dance and drink tequila, sensed something in Cole that no one else had? “You left?”
“Had to. Es un hombre hermetico. He was unknowable.”
“I see.” Did she ever.
“I had a boyfriend who had secrets,” Tia Kat said. “Turned out he was on the run from the law. Nobody needs a man who keeps secrets.”
“Joe told me everything.” Grandma Doris laughed. “Even the boring stuff. But I listened to all of it because sometimes there was a gem in that deadly-dull story.”
Tia Carmen had tales about secretive men, too. The jury was in and the verdict was clear.
She’d come here hoping for answers. And now she had them. She might not like it, but the Damsels had given her the resolve to do what was in her best interests.
Would it help Cole? Would he see the light? She had no idea. Her heart wept at the knowledge that she was about to hurt the man she loved. Because she loved him, she would feel his pain as her own.
But unless she wanted to live with someone who’d decided to cut experiences out of his life rather than deal with his past, she had no choice.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The poker party was wrapping up when Cole’s phone dinged with a text. Chances were good that was Mila, so he left the phone in his pocket until he’d said his goodbyes. He made sure he was the first one out the door.
“We know where you’re go-ing!” Rio called out in a sing-song voice.
He didn’t respond. Rio might think he knew, but in truth it was a toss-up. Could be heaven. Could be hell. As he walked down the hill, he pulled out his phone and read the text.
Can you meet me by my truck?
By her truck? Fudge. That didn’t sound good. Not good at all. He tapped in a quick response. Be right there.
Sure enough, she stood by the driver’s side, her parka hood up and her arms folded, likely because it was fudging cold out here. And almost dark.
He started the conversation before he’d reached her. “You’re not coming back.” Might as well take the bull by the horns.
“I’m not.”
Between the fading light and shadow cast by her hood, he couldn’t read her expression very well, even when he drew within touching distance. “Still need more time to think?” Maybe he shouldn’t assume the worst.
“Not really.”
He finally picked up on the fact she was breathing fast. Harder to tell when she was bundled up. His stomach pitched. “What did you come up with?”
“I love you. I want to build a life with you.”
“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”
“Because it’s complicated. I love you but I don’t really know you. Keeping your past a secret… it doesn’t work for me.” Her voice trembled.
He gasped at the finality of that statement. There was no wiggle room. “Is that it?”
“No. Numbing yourself to get through the Christmas season might suit you, but it leaves me to celebrate with someone who’s zoned out. That’s a lonely place to be.”
He flinched. He hadn’t looked at it that way.
