Page 15 of Entangled
“Divorce was finalized two years ago, but we separated about a year before that.” I stare at the cat figurines on a nearby shelf. “She said I was too moody.”
“No offense, but…”
My gaze snaps to her face. “I wasn’t always an asshole. That was her complaint—I wasn’t the same man she’d married. And you know what?” I set down my glass and lean forward in my seat. “She was absolutely right.”
“When did you become a…curmudgeon?”
A half-hearted chuckle leaves my lips. “Around the time I was deployed.”
“Thank you for your service,” she murmurs, compassion shining from her beautiful green gaze.
I nod and sip my drink. “You’re welcome.”
“You said you were a prisoner of war. What happened?”
My muscles tense with her question. Even after all this time, my fight or flight instincts haven’t gone away. If anything, they’re stronger. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to talk about that. Suffice it to say, the experience fucked me up big time.”
“Maybe you should consider therapy.” She releases a heavy sigh and slumps in her chair. “Although I’m one to talk. I should’ve been in counseling for the past fifteen years.”
“I’ve done therapy. Didn’t help.”
She searches my face. “I’m sure there wassomeimprovement?”
“Tell that to the flashbacks and nightmares.”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” she whispers.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat. “What happened to your mom?”
“Car accident.” She stares into her bowl like it’s a portal to another dimension as grief rolls off her in waves. “Dad was involved too, but he survived.”
“I’m sorry for your family’s loss.”
“Thank you. It’s been challenging. My dad’s a paraplegic, so I take care of him most days.” She meets my gaze once more. “He has a lovely home health aide who’s here a few times a week. He’s actually on vacation with her now. Greta issogood to him, and he adores her. She takes him out for all his errands and doctor appointments.”
“You don’t drive him?”
“No. I don’t drive at all. I haven’t left the property in fifteen years.”
What?I gape at her. “Seriously?”
She nods sadly. “Yeah. That’s why I get so many deliveries.”
“So, you’ve been locked in this tower for all that time?”
“No one locked me up. I’m free to come and go as I please. I just choose not to.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” The desolate look in her eyes tells me there’s a damn good reason she hasn’t left the premises in a decade and a half.
“How do you make that work?”
She tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you get bored?”Or lonely?
Rowan laughs. “I made friends with boredom ten years ago.”
