My attraction to the detective swelled, filling me to the point of discomfort. I didn’t know what to do with the emotions coursing through me, and it took a long time before I was stable enough to open my eyes and talk.
“Can we change the subject?” I was too close to the edge to risk continuing on this path. “Please.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be.” He didn’t understand, and I wasn’t able to explain. Death and I were intimate companions, and conversations of this nature were troubling.
“You think I’m a monster.”
“Absolutely not.”
Kobe set his tumbler aside and shuffled closer. “Dom.”
Our knees bumped. He removed the empty glass from my hand and placed it on the coffee table. We stared at one another for a long time, neither of us speaking.
I didn’t want him to leave, but uninvited tension seeped into the room and pushed us apart.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No. Don’t go.” Kobe hadn’t moved, but I feared he might run. “I like a man who speaks his mind. I find it preferable to… false fronts. Some people go out of their way to win you over, but—”
“It’s fake.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not like that, Dominique. I tend to be unfiltered to a fault.”
“Good.”
He shook his head with a sad smile. “Not always. It’s unbefitting for a cop.”
“Let’s change the subject.”
Glancing around, Kobe zeroed in on the Christmas tree. A wistful look bloomed in his honey-warm eyes. Beside the couch, on an end table within reach, sat a photograph of Cosette. Kobe picked it up and cradled it in his hands.
“Tell me about your life, Dominique.”
I tensed, and he must have sensed the rigidity in my muscles, adding, “Not everything. Tell me about your daughter. Cosette’s a safe topic, isn’t she?”
“I suppose.” Still, I hesitated.
“I want to know everything there is to know about you. I realize some things are off limits for now. I have shit I don’t talk about either.” Again, he peered longingly at the Christmas tree. “Here’s a little Kobe Fun Fact. I didn’t grow up in a house with a positive family dynamic. My mother was… not a nice woman. I never knew my real father. I’m the product of a one-night stand, I believe. Unwanted and unloved. My stepfather barely acknowledges my existence. My mother can’t look at me without disdain. I have a half sister, Maya, who can do no wrong. The world revolves around her. I was nothing more than a reminder of a past my mother wanted to forget. She hates me.”
“No—”
“Yes. Truly. She said as much on a regular basis. It gets inside your head after a while. I’m not being dramatic. The woman utterly despises my very existence. Growing up, she treated me like I was less than human. I had to jump through impossible hoops to earn things that are considered natural human rights. Like food. Clothing. No one saw what was happening. I fought to get help… for a while. I gave up once I reached high school, then I worked to get myself emancipated instead and left.”
The entire time Kobe spoke, he stared at the framed photograph of Cosette. “Seeing these pictures proudly displayed. The Christmas tree. Watching her cuddle into you when you answered the door. It tells me you’re a good father. A caring father. You’ve already won points in my book. You’re a man I want to know.”
Kobe glanced up from under his lashes, a raw vulnerability in his honey-brown eyes. “Will you share more with me, Dominique?”
Could I?
I took the framed photograph from his hand, smiling softly at the memory as I untangled the past and reframed the present to something digestible and shareable. The photo showed Cosette in nothing but a swimmer and a floppy summer hat, splashing in a green turtle pool in the backyard. Vibrant grass. Bright sun sparkling off the water. A cloudless blue sky above. If I closed my eyes, I could almost smell the pollen in the air. Her sunscreen. Our neighbor’s freshly cut lawn. Birds sang in the trees, twittering their songs without a care in the world.
“This was at our old house in Gatineau, taken this past summer before we moved. God it was hot. Mid-thirties for weeks.”
“I remember.”
