She wasn't someone who let others do things for her.Maybe I'd misjudged her.But I wasn't ready to lower that wall yet because my reality hadn't changed.Belle was too good for me.
Too many people in school had told me I wouldn't amount to anything if I didn't shape up.And then when I'd gone into trade work, I'm sure people suspected I wasn't smart enough for college.
I'd done a number on my grades over the years with my indifference.I couldn't turn things around in time to apply for colleges.
But I made a good living and was creating a reputation for myself.I enjoyed owning a business and calling the shots.The creative side of it fulfilled me in a way that getting in trouble never did.
"What are you doing?"Belle's voice was a little stronger than when I'd woken her from a nap.
She stood by the island, wearing my sweatshirt, the one I'd given her when she was cold.I cleared my throat, pulling out a stool."Sit."
For once, she easily complied.That was an indication of how she was feeling."Are you cooking soup?"
I nodded, determined not to ask why she was wearing my hoodie.There was the other issue that I kind of liked to see her in it.It satisfied some primal part of me."You need to eat so you can feel better."
She raised a brow."I guess I'm surprised you cook."
"I'm a single man living alone.Why?You don't?"I deflected easily.
She shrugged."When I have to."
She was quiet for a few seconds while I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice, then water.I placed it in front of her.I couldn't seem to stop taking care of her.Her skin was still pale, her eyes red, and her hair mussed from laying in bed after her shower.
She wrapped her fingers around the glass."You didn't have to stick around."
"I thought we already talked about why.You're in no position to take care of yourself."
She sighed."I would have managed."
"I don't see anyone else here," I said carefully, a little afraid of probing into her personal life.We weren't friends.We might have flirted once upon a time, but we clearly hadn't learned much about each other beyond surface level stuff.And as a teenager, I'd been motivated mainly by my attraction to her.
She rolled her shoulders back, as if she was bracing herself."My mother is not the type to take care of someone while they're sick."
"So your mom isn't the caring type—" I prompted, hoping to learn more.
She grimaced."And my friends from high school aren't either."
I leaned against the counter, facing her."I didn't think they were."
She grimaced."You knew that in high school?"
I tipped my head to the side."That group you hung out with?Yeah, they cared more about what brand of clothing they were wearing than being good people.They seemed to go out of their way to exclude others."
She bit her lip."I wasn't part of picking on anyone.I usually read during lunch and stayed out of the gossip.I assumed we were closer than we were."
"Those girls were all about status.They probably assumed you were rich because of what you wore and gravitated toward that."Too late, I realized how that sounded."But what do I know about girls' relationships?"
She looked away."No.you're right.It just took me too long to figure that out."
"And you haven't made other friends over the years?"
"I have college friends, but they don't live here.When I moved home, I tried reaching out to old friends, but they haven't matured."
I didn't like hearing that she didn't have anyone.
"The shop owners have been nice.I think they could be friends.But I'm a little more cautious about that sort of thing now."
"I bet."She'd hung out with the mean girls in school, and she probably found it difficult to trust people.
