Page 57 of The Dark Before Light

Another switch of tools, this time to a finer-tipped chisel. He resumes working, but there’s a calculating tilt to his head.

“I’ll answer if you answer a question first.”

My back straightens. “Okay.”

“Are you really seeing someone?”

My stomach flips. “No,” I admit. “I’m sorry I lied to you about that. It was the wrong way to set a boundary.”

He nods to himself, expression neutral. I stay tense in expectation of a follow-up question, but he surprises me.

“It wouldn’t be fair to ask a woman to deal with the restrictions in my life right now.”

I pause a beat, weighing the words. By this point, I know him well enough to decipher when he’s holding back. He’s not lying, exactly, but he’s also not being honest.

“Can you dig deeper? What’s the emotion behind that?”

His eyelashes flicker. “Fear.”

“Of what?”

“Death, obviously. I’d prefer that no one else dies at the hands of a deranged stalker.”

“More, Kieran. This is an established pattern that spans four years. Your fear is valid, but there’s another component to it.”

“Maybe I haven’t met a woman I’d like to chat with after fucking,” he grinds out.

“More.”

Air hisses through clenched teeth. Stormy eyes find mine. “I’m not the same man who married Liz. I don’t feel capable of it.”

“Capable of what?”

He throws his tool to the table, swiveling to face me. “You win, Stirling. Here’s the truth. It’s not that I haven’t tried dating anyone. It’s that when I have, I lost interest within days. I don’t know how to be normal anymore. I’m too angry, too… jagged. I’m so different, if Liz were still alive, I don’t even know if she’d have me. And worse, so much fucking worse, I don’t know if I’d want her.”

Anguish screams in his eyes, his face. I want to touch him so badly. Push my fingers into the tense muscles of his shoulders and neck. Brush the hair back from his face and tell him, It’s okay, you’re okay, you’ll be okay. A fine tremor moves down my spine, my fingers curling together in my lap as I resist the impulse.

“That’s grief,” I murmur. “The inescapable tragedy of time passing and carrying us away from the people we’ve lost. It doesn’t diminish the love. We can only accept that our hearts have different shapes now. You’re as capable of love as you were then. And just as deserving.”

Holding eye contact has never been harder. Even though he’s the one who exposed a core vulnerability, I feel flayed open by his steady gaze. I’m terrified he can sense that my words are more than helpful rhetoric. That I meant them not as his therapist, but as a woman in awe of him.

The tightrope slips under my feet.

Kieran’s rapt expression softens. With a small shake of his head, he turns back to the worktable and picks up his tool. I let him work in silence for a few minutes, both to let the heaviness pass and to give myself time to remember what the hell I’m doing.

Once I feel solid again, I clear my throat.

“Ding, ding, round two,” he murmurs, lips twitching.

My sigh is half relief, half laughter. “Okay, let’s circle back to coping mechanisms. Do you have any hobbies outside of work? Judo doesn’t count.”

He frowns, glancing at me. “Why not?”

I arch a brow. “You tell me.”

He sighs. “Because it’s a strategy I employ for health and longevity and not strictly for enjoyment.”

I grin. “Exactly.”

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