I cocked my head at him quizzically. “I thought you were making small talk or something.”
“I’m still curious about you.” His eyes were clear, his face thoughtful.
Okay. My eyes narrowed as I watched him. “What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you’re thinking about so seriously.”
I took another deep breath and looked at him. He nodded in encouragement.
“I have decisions I need to make. Things I’ve been putting off.” I paused, but he didn’t withdraw and his eyes didn’t glaze over, so I continued. “I can choose to keep going like I have been.” I wrinkled my nose at him, frustrated by my inability to express myself. “Or I change everything. Which is more challenging but, hopefully, more rewarding too.”
“The choice seems a bit obvious.”
“You’d think so.” I shifted so that we weren’t quite so wrapped around each other.
“But?”
I turned my head, our face inches apart. “It’s been like this for so long…” I shrugged and tried again. “It started out of necessity, for my family. Then it just kind of stuck, became the pattern of normalcy. There’s a sort of pathetic comfort in knowing what to expect.”
“What does ‘like this’ mean, Claire?” His voice was soft.
“Auto-pilot? Or—” I smiled. “—a ship at sea without any charts or stars or landmarks, just aimlessly adrift. I’m not sure that makes any sense. I don’t know how to describe it. I’m not good at this, I told you.” I shrugged, frustrated. “My life’s not bad, it’s just…there.” I shrugged again, my face pinched. I watched his face, anxiously awaiting the appearance of a bored or disinterested expression. Any time now, surely.
He was thoughtful for a while. Then he said, “Can I ask what happened to leave you so uncertain?”
“No.” I didn’t want the details of my past here. This was something untarnished and I liked it that way. I looked out over the water, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, you can ask. I’m not going to answer.”
“Fair enough.” He nudged me, his hand finding mine. He held my hand in his, squeezing it gently. “How long have you been adrift, then?”
I took a deep breath. “About two years.”
“What’s holding you back?” His brow furrowed as he waited for my answer.
“I wish I had a better answer.” I sighed. “But I don’t really know. I’ve asked myself that, but haven’t come up with an explanation that makes sense.” I watched his face. “More than you wanted to hear?”
“No. It’s rather cryptic. Very cryptic, in fact. But I understand that you don’t want to share everything.”
I was surprised by his earnestness. “I guess I’m waiting for you to change the subject…or admit you’re not really listening.”
His hand tightened around mine. “I am listening.”
“Which is what I don’t understand,” I said softly. My eyes melted into his, their golden depths clear and open.
“I don’t either, not fully.” His voice was soft and uncertain. “But there it is.”
I found myself staring at him, unable to ignore the thrill his words stirred.
“And you have children?”
I laughed. “I knew the knife fight thing wasn’t a good cover.”
“My sister has a similar scar, and three children.”
“I have two children.”
He smiled. “A good number.”
“They are great kids. They’re the only reliable things in my life.”