“No one,” I reply flatly.
“So what are you going to do now?” he asks. “You’re just going to live in this big old house by yourself? Paint and waste away for the next fifty years?”
“It doesn’t sound half bad,” I reply.
“Sounds miserable and lonely,” he quips with a downhearted expression.
Itismiserable and lonely. I want to tell him that, but I’ve always tried to protect Colin from the darker, more depressing things.
“Hey,” he says, looking up at me with a bit more enthusiasm. “You remember that asshole Malcolm from uni, the rugby player?”
The sudden change of topic takes me by surprise.
“Aye,” I reply, my brow furrowing as I try to recall the memory.
“Did you know that he went pro?” he asks.
“I honestly haven’t given him a second thought since we graduated,” I reply.
“Well, he did,” Colin says with a hint of a smirk on his face. “In fact, he married an actress, andshewas in my last film.”
“Really?” I ask, suddenly intrigued. “Did you see him?”
“I did. At our wrap party.”
“Did you punch him again?” I inquire with a laugh.
He shakes his head as his smile pierces his cheeks with dimples. “No, but he asked about you.”
My jaw drops. “About me? Why?”
“He thought that we were together, and he figured we were still friends.”
“Huh,” I say. “And what did you tell him?”
Colin takes a moment as he contemplates his response. “I told him that we had lost touch,” he replies sadly.
I let my eyes drift downward, away from his face, as regret pummels my insides. “That was a nice way of putting it.”
He nods back at me, and neither of us says anything for a moment. This lingering reminder that Colin and I used to be something amazing, even if there was no name to the thing that we were, stings.
We were friends. We were lovers. We were in love, and yet, never together, never in the right place at the right time.
Out of nowhere, I mumble, “Do you love him?”
Colin stiffens, his throat moving as he swallows. “Declan, don’t do this.”
“Just tell me you love him, and I’ll stop worrying.”
“You don’t need to worry about me anymore,” he replies, shifting against the cold floor.
“Does he protect you?” I persist. “Does he listen to you? I know you give him control, Colin. I can tell. But do you trust him?”
His eyes widen as he stares at me. I’m picking open an old wound. Bringing up Colin’s submissive side is a low blow, and I know it, but I need to be sure.
“Of course, I trust him,” he whispers. There’s an unsteadiness to his voice that triggers my concern even more.
“Like you trusted me?” I ask, and moisture grows around Colin’s eyes. When he doesn’t answer, I grow eager and restless. Scooting closer to him, I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away. “I’m speaking as your friend, Shelby. You are too kind, too forgiving, too pleasing to guys like him. Don’t give yourself away to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Don’t let him—”
