Page 65 of Ewan

“You’re safe with me. Besides, I had plenty of opportunities to do something to you if I wanted to,” he says. “Don’t you think?” he probes.

He glances at me, an eyebrow lifted.

I toss him a contemplative look.

“What are you afraid of?” he asks again.

“Why are you taking me home?” I murmur, shifting the conversation.

“To make sure you’re all right.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

I realize that we’re heading toward an argument, regardless of whether we want it or not.

He looks away and shrugs.

“It doesn’t. I just thought it was the right thing to do.”

That sounds cold.

“Did your ex bother you again?” he asks.

“He didn’t dare.”

“Perfect. Mission accomplished.”

A pause ensures.

“Did he take care of you when you were together?” he eventually asks.

His question makes me ponder.

What does that even mean?

No one has ever taken care of me.

My mother did her best, but I was left to my own devices early on.

I didn’t expect anyone to take care of me.

“What do you mean?”

I ask him what I have asked myself.

He’s probably thinking about the extra care you normally get from someone who loves you. But what are we talking about love?

No, Joachim didn’t do that.

He didn’t go the extra mile. He didn’t even break his routine to do something nice for me.

Had I been married to Joachim and worked in Manhattan, I’d be on the train now, heading home.

That’s how things worked in our marriage.

He didn’t care whether I’d workeda few extra hours or had side hustles to pay the bills.

He contributed with what he could, and that was it.

---