I stopped walking.
He stopped and looked at the ground.
“Rune, you've never had a relationship?”
He shrugged.
“Rune.” I pulled on his hand.
Rune looked at me, a lopsided grin spreading. “I've been waiting for the right girl.”
Holy. Shit.
“Rune, I can't leave him.”
His expression crumpled, and he stiffened. “I know.”
In a whisper, I added, “I'd like to.”
A broken breath passed over his lips.
“I still care about him,” I went on. “But I don't love him anymore. He crushed that a long time ago. Still, he gave meeternity and a certain amount of freedom. I can't end things with him.”
Rune nodded. “I know. You've already said.”
“But I can promise you that when he returns, there will be nothing romantic between us.”
Rune's eyes narrowed. “Only sex.”
“Yes.” I lifted my chin. “There would be sex. Meaningless sex. Sex as different from what we have as you can get.”
His shoulders tightened so much that he hunched forward. “I can't . . . Lora, I can't think about this right now.”
“All right. I'm sorry I brought him up. It felt as if you were taking us further, and I couldn't let you do that without reminding you of what it would mean. That would be wrong.”
Rune's expression smoothed and his stare went tender. “Thank you. And I'm sorry. This must be hard for you too.”
“You mean being unable to commit myself fully to someone I truly want to be with?” I laughed mirthlessly. “No, it's totally fine.”
He snorted. But then it went deeper, really registered. “Fuck.” He blinked. “At least I could move on. But you . . .”
“Yeah. I have to find someone who loves me enough to deal with Hermes or satisfy myself with brief relationships.”
“Shit.”
I shrugged. “It can be lonely, but I have too much to be grateful for to complain. Love isn't everything.”
“No,” Rune murmured, looking distracted for a moment. “Not everything, but it's more important than you think.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He smiled and tugged on my hand. “Let's go look at your tidal pools exhibit.”
“Tidal pools! That's what it's called.”
Chapter Twelve
A month later, Rune and I had a routine. He'd come by when I was closing up the gallery, and we'd grab some dinner. Usually, we did take-out and eat in my apartment but sometimes we felt like getting dressed up and going out. Then we'd spend the night together. He got called away a few times but always returned afterward. Rune began to leave things at my place—his toothbrush, shaving kit, some clothes. I gave him a drawer and space on a clothes rack. He also had a shelf in the bathroom. In short, we were getting comfortable. Too comfortable. We both knew it, but we ignored the problem.
