“Enough.”
He nods.
“Dina,” I say.
“Absolutely,” she replies instantly. “I have ordering to do.”
Traitor.
The kitchen door closes behind her.
I look at Fox.
“Talk to me,” I say. “Not Dina. Not Percy.” I jab a finger at my chest. “Me.”
He studies me for a moment. Then nods.
“Okay.”
He comes around the counter and settles beside me.
“My father loved my mother the way you love a correct decision,” he says. “With satisfaction.”
I cross my arms.
“That sounds romantic.”
He exhales.
“It was stable. Reliable. Respectable. And I learned from it without realizing I was learning.”
“You learned love was…paperwork?”
“More or less.”
“And Reina?” I ask, my heart throbbing.
“That was loud.”
Of course it was.
“It was urgent. Jealous. Consuming. And when it ended, it hurt loudly too.”
He looks at me.
“So I thought that must be love.”
“And I wasn’t?” I say sharply.
“You were,” he says immediately. “I just didn’t recognize it.”
I shake my head. “That’s convenient.”
“No, sweetheart, convenient is one thing this is not.”
“Fox, you said you didn’t love me. You seemed very sure.”
“I was,” he says quietly. “I was certain about the wrong thing.”
