Page 112 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
“Yes. I wanted to learn about you.”
Interesting.“I’ve been blessed. My career was booming for a long time. It’s just, the last three to four years, I don’t know. It’s like I lost something, my spark, my passion. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“It was after Kevin?”
Well, that was blunt, but he’s also right. “It was. I went on dates after him, but nothing ever lasted. My books were pretty bad during that time. If I’m being honest…” I swirl the wine around in my glass, avoiding his eyes. “I think that’s around the time I kind of gave up on the idea of love. I mean, what kind of romance author can’t even have a solid, romance-oozing, passion-filled relationship, you know?”
“Could it be that maybe you gave up on more than just love?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it possible that you gave up on yourself?” Though his tone is tender, the words sting.
They sting because they’re true.
I take in a breath and let it out, determined not to cry.
“I think —” I look up at him and swallow. “Somewhere along the way I stopped believing in myself. I lost my footing somehow. I think I was so mad at myself for being so stupid and not seeing what was happening right before my eyes. I just got lost. And then I made up this ridiculous thing that the only way I’d get back to myself was to be alone. No men, no relationships. That’s how I planned to regain my success.”
“I take it that hasn’t happened yet?” A question that could’ve been asked with a lick of judgement is spoken with compassion.
I chuckle softly. “No, not yet.”
“Your plan is flawed.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You blame yourself for something you had no part in. You said yourself he wasn’t the one for you. It wasn’t going to work regardless of his behavior. And youaresuccessful. You didn’tloseanything. You just let your view of yourself get clouded for a while. I don’t think you see yourself clearly. You’ve captivated me, since the moment you turned around and nearly fell backwards onto Candi’s desk.”
The world around us blurs as I’m enraptured by every word he speaks to my soul.
“I’ve read some of your books. You’re a talented author and you write with depth and skill and imagination. You bring your characters and stories to life. Your heart is pure and kind and generous beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed. You’re an independent, capable woman who’s open-minded and respects others. And you don’t compromise where your values are concerned, I admire that. Through your writing, I feel your passion. Through your actions, I see your compassion.”
I can’t move. I can’t look away from him.
“And you’re the most beautiful, sexy woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know.” He stops. His brows pinch together as the intensity behind his eyes changes. The warmth of his energy shifts to indifference. “Someday, a man worthy of you will come along and see all of these things I see in you and you’ll have your soul mate love. But first, you need to see them, believe them, in your heart.” He takes a sip of wine then shakes his head. “None of what you thought was lost is lost. Everything is there, inside you. You just need to believe in yourself again.”
I’m speechless.
I’m trying to process his words.
I can’t even form a coherent response.
I sip my wine.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say all that. I appreciate it.”
“You don’t need to thank me. Every word I said is true.”
Our waiter comes by with our bill. Nicco pays and we go back to the villa. Neither of us says much on the drive. I’m still processing what he said.
Does he really feel that way? Was he simply being nice? His words sounded deeper than friendship. Am I misinterpreting something? Does he have feelings for me? I felt him shift, distance himself, like he was trying to protect himself, or me.
When we get back to the villa, he pours us wine. I excuse myself to use the restroom and put my purse in my room. Before I rejoin him, my phone chimes. It’s a text from Dad that he sent me an email. I open my laptop and read the email.
When I walk into the living room, Nicco hands me a glass of wine and we sit together on the cognac-colored leather sofa.
I have no idea how to say what I need to say. But I need to tell him.
