Page 151 of Reckless Obsession
“I don’t pretend that.”
“See? Growth.”
He lets me ramble on and just watches me quietly.
His hand is still resting near my knee, but it has gone still. His eyes are on me with an expression I can’t read.
Not anger.
Not annoyance.
Something worse.
Hesitation.
My smile starts to falter.
“We don’t have to do all three,” I add, less certain now. “Obviously. That would be excessive, even for me. We could pick one. Italy, maybe. You like Italy, don’t you?”
Tristan’s gaze drops for a fraction of a second.
That tiny movement sends something cold through my chest.
I stop talking.
The movie continues in the background, voices filling the apartment with a conversation neither of us is listening to.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“That is never a good answer.”
“Baby—”
“No.” I sit up fully now, the easy warmth of a moment ago slipping away too fast. “You have that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’ve already decided something, but you’re trying to figure out how to tell me without making me angry.”
He looks at me then.
Really looks at me.
And the hesitation is still there.
My heart sinks so quietly it almost feels like relief at first. Like at least I was right to notice it. Then it turns heavy.
“You don’t want to go,” I say.
“That’s not what I said.”
“You didn’t have to.”
His jaw tightens. “It’s not that simple.”
Of course it isn’t.
