“But now you’re not. What else is on your resume?”
She wanted to get to know me. That made me smile despite the fact I tried not to. I’djusttold her the subject was off-limits, and yet here she was, poking anyway, confident I wouldn’t push her away. Confident that no matter what I said, I’d end up giving her exactly what she wanted.
And damn it, she was right. She always seemed to be. Because even though I knew better—knew how this would end—I’d still give her whatever piece of myself she asked for, consequences be damned.
“I joined when I was seventeen. Graduated early. Served for a while, many deployments. Eventually, I wrecked the left side of my body.”
“Then you suddenly became a lawyer? Doesn’t that take a lot of schooling?”
I nodded. “It does. But Remy has connections, and I am very good at what I do.”
She watched me quietly, listening. Valentina had a way of hearing not just what I said, but what I didn’t say too.
“Do you like it?” she wondered.
“No.”
“But you stayed?”
“Yes.”
Her brow rose. “Why?”
I hesitated. It was the right question—maybe even the obvious one. But that didn’t mean the answer came easily. She’d expect something simple: money, stability, maybe influence. But none of those things were what kept me sitting behind a desk, buried in paperwork, tangled up in other people’s problems.
“I stayed because it made sense,” I said finally. “Remy needed someone he could trust. Someone who wouldn’t ask questions.”
Valentina frowned. I could see her putting the pieces together, realizing I’d willingly trapped myself in another role that didn’t quite fit.
“So you’re doing this for Remy?” she asked softly.
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“You do a lot for other people,” she said, her gaze softening. “Makes me wonder if anyone does anything for you.”
I didn’t respond right away. Mostly because no one had ever said that out loud before. Not even me.
It wasn’t something I allowed myself to think about—what I did for others; what they did or didn’t do for me. I’d learnedearly not to expect reciprocation. You either gave something freely or you didn’t give at all. And for most of my life, giving freely had meant not looking too closely at what I got back.
“No,” I said finally. “I don’t expect them to.”
She tilted her head slightly, considering my answer. “That’s lonely.”
“It’s easier.”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “But it’s time to break that habit, lawyer.”
I smiled. “You’re not really giving me much of a choice, are you?”
Valentina rolled her eyes, her tone dry. “If I gave you a choice, you’d probably just sit in silence forever.”
“Probably,” I admitted.
She leaned forward slightly, propping her chin up on her hand, eyes thoughtful. “Were you always like that?”
“Like what?”
“So serious,” she said. “Even as a kid.”
