I followed him through the door, and when the overhead light jumped to life, I inhaled quickly.
“I forgot about the light, sorry.”
As I surveyed that room, I noticed the same thing as the bedroom. One countertop by a sink was cluttered with a man’s razor, contact solution, and toothbrush, while the other was empty. Where was my stuff? And why were all the labels in a language I couldn’t read?
We continued along, Ryan showing off more of the house, seemingly unaware that my anxiety was building to an unmanageable level. He didn’t notice how I was trembling.
“Stop,” I said when we stood in the kitchen, grabbing a box of something that looked like it contained cereal from the counter. “Tell me what language this is.”
He took it and set it back down. “Croatian.”
“Why is it in Croatian?” I already knew, but I needed to hear him say it.
“Because we’re just outside the city of Dubrovnik, Croatia.”
I felt like I was standing at the edge of a stage, about to fall off. It was strange that my nationality was the only thing I had any certainty about. “I’m not American?”
“No, you are. I have dual citizenship, and I thought it was best for you to recover here.”
“Why?” My heart thudded in my chest. I had no idea where home was, but this kitchen felt like it was a million miles from it.
“The doctor warned me not to overwhelm you, and we can get into my reasons later. I know you’re not hungry, but let’s get some eggs in you before the appointment.”
He had an edge in his tone which let me know he wouldn’t be easy to persuade otherwise. I sank into a seat at the breakfast bar and said nothing, watching him as he cooked.
Eventually, the silence got to me, and I asked about his career.
“I’m the COO of my family’s business,” he said.
“What do you do?”
“Meetings, mostly,” he responded, misinterpreting my question. “I never thought I’d end up stuck in conference rooms all day.”
“Well, business must be good. Your house is impressive.”
He set the plate of scrambled eggs before me. “Our house.”
“It’s a bizarre feeling, a stranger who’s so familiar with you.” I didn’t mean for it to be hurtful. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
“It’s fine,” he said, a little too quickly.
I felt bad and picked up my fork. Perhaps eating his food might smooth things over.
“How are they?”
“Good. Thank you.” My stomach churned as I forced another bite.
I studied him as he poured a cup of coffee. He was the type of guy most women would covet. I couldn’t help but wonder why I felt no hint of possessiveness.
When I’d finished eating enough to satisfy him, he set my plate in the sink and motioned to the doorway. “Want to continue the tour?”
“Sure.”
We journeyed on to the home office. The gray walls and oversized black desk were surprisingly generic in the otherwise gorgeous home. It was meticulously clean as well, to the point I wondered if the surfaces were medical grade sterile.
“I hardly use it, so we didn’t want to waste money on a decorator.”
I nodded and tried not to look uncomfortable. The final room was the guest bedroom, which solved the question of where I had been sleeping.
