Moonlight over Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 6)

“What was wrong with it? Too cold? Too lumpy? Too watery?”

“All those things and more. Not enough chocolate, I used the wrong milk—the list was endless. Cardiac surgery was less daunting.” He put the mug down in front of her. “Of course this is made to my niece’s specifications. You might not like it.”

She took a cautious sip and closed her eyes. “How could anyone not like it? This is a hug in a mug. Comfort in a cup.”

“A hug in a mug? Maybe you should stop walking dogs and start writing slogans.” He slid into the seat opposite her. The sleeves of his sweater were pushed back, exposing forearms dusted with dark hairs. He had strong arms. The kind of arms you wanted wrapped around you in a crisis, although no doubt that wasn’t generally the way he handled all the different crises that came his way during an average working day. His hair was ruffled, his eyes were tired and he was just about the sexiest guy she’d ever laid eyes on.

The apartment was quiet. The only noise was the almost silent hum of the refrigerator and the soft sound of Madi’s rhythmic breathing.

Beyond the windows the snow was falling, drawing a veil over the buildings beyond.

“So when is your next date?”

The question skidded uncomfortably close to her thoughts and she took another sip of chocolate. “No more dates. I’m done.”

“You’re done after just three dates? Is three supposed to be a lucky number?”

“Three was the number I picked. I promised myself I’d go on three before I allowed myself to give up.”

“What if the guy who is perfect for you is guy number four?”

She lowered the mug. “Honestly? I didn’t expect to meet a guy who was perfect for me. It was more about trying to get better at going on a date. I’m not dating because I’m desperate for a man, Ethan. I’m dating because I find it hard and right now I’m trying to do things I find hard.”

“I didn’t realize dating required a certain skill level.”

His comment confirmed what she already knew. That for most people, this sort of thing was easy, whereas she had to work at every step. “I find talking to strangers hard. And the hardest thing of all is dinner. People say ‘hey, let’s grab something to eat’ as if it’s nothing, but to me it’s not nothing.”

“Dinner is hard? Is it the atmosphere? The whole pressure of romance?”

“I’m not good when I don’t know someone. It takes me a while to relax, and I never reach that point during one date.” She paused, wondering how much to say. “Growing up, mealtimes were stressful. I think some of that has carried over into adulthood for me. So although a first date will always be a nightmare, a first date over dinner is a double nightmare.” It was something she’d never confided to anyone before, not even Fliss, but something about Ethan made it easy to say things that were usually hard. Maybe it was the way he listened, giving her his full attention as if what she was saying was interesting and important.

Like now. His gaze hadn’t once shifted from her face.

“Why mealtimes specifically?”

“Because that was the only time during the day when we were together as a family. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it? Whole family round the table. I can tell you it wasn’t. It was excruciating.”

“Because of your family?”

“Not my whole family. My father. I stayed out of his way as much as I could, but during mealtimes there was no avoiding anything. I think sitting around the table once a day was my mom’s way of trying to pretend we were a normal family even though we all knew we were anything but.”

“You said your parents were divorced. So that only happened after you left home?”

“Sadly. It would have been better for everyone if it had happened sooner.”

“He was abusive?” There was a slight edge to his tone that hadn’t been there before.

“Verbally. He was smart with words. In his hands, words were the perfect weapon. He didn’t need to raise a hand or unbuckle his belt. He could cause bruises and scars just by opening his mouth.” She wrapped her hands round the mug, feeling the heat seep through and warm her palms. “Because he was good with words, it drove him insane that I wasn’t. The madder he became, the more I stammered. It aggravated him to have to wait for me to get a word out, so he finished my sentences and it mostly ended up with him having a conversation with himself. So then I was silent, and that drove him mad too. Fliss and Daniel fought with him, partly to attract attention away from me. So you can imagine how peaceful mealtimes were. The rest of the time he could pretend he didn’t have me as a daughter, but at mealtimes he was forced to confront the fact that I existed.” She stopped, embarrassed. “I’m talking too much, which is ironic in the circumstances.” Normally her problem was not talking enough, but being with Ethan seemed to have fixed that problem.

Maybe he’d spiked her hot chocolate.

“You’re not talking too much.” His voice was soft. “Did he get angry with your mom too? Was it all about the marriage? He didn’t love her?”

“He loved her very much. That was the problem.” It was a relief to talk to someone who wasn’t emotionally involved. Someone who would listen, without judging. “Fliss and I only discovered that recently. My mom spent her life trying to smooth things over and please him. We always assumed she was crazy about him and that he didn’t feel the same way. Turns out it was the other way round. He was crazy about her, and she didn’t love him back.”

“But I’m sure he loved you, deep down.”

“Now who is believing in fairy tales?” But she understood why he would say that and believe it, because she’d felt that way herself for years before finally acknowledging the painful truth. “I hate to destroy your illusions of happy families, but he didn’t love me. Not at all.” She saw the shock and disbelief in his eyes. “You’re thinking I’m wrong, but I’m not. I didn’t want to believe it, either. For years I told myself it was my fault he got so mad with me. I could hardly get the words out so of course he was going to be exasperated. My stammer must have been infuriating for someone as confident as my dad. Wherever we went he owned the room. He had a