Page 50 of Whispers of Wisteria
Instead, she climbed into the car, sat back in the seat, and crossed her arms. “I still don’t see why we need to talk.”
“Because you’re not handling this alone.”
She huffed. “Ihavebeen.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And that’s the problem.”
She stayed quiet, but it didn’t matter. I’d already decided this conversation was happening, whether she was ready or not.
The restaurant was almostto capacity, but we were still seated at the private booth permanently reserved for my use only.
I sipped my drink and watched Bianca nervously run her finger around the rim of her glass. She’d hardly spoken the entire drive here, and I hadn’t wanted to push her.
But now I had to get her to open up.
“You did good,” I said.
Her hand jerked. I’d been containing myself around her because, while she was no longer afraid of me, shifters still made her nervous. But after today, she was more sensitive than usual.
Not that I blamed her.
I hated seeing her like this.
Bianca’s lips twitched into a sarcastic smile, and she stared at her water. “How?”
“You talked to Trinity even though you were scared,” I replied.
Her expression closed. “I’m not going to let her examine me.”
I wished she would.
“It’s okay,” I said. For now. “I know that you’ll go when you’re ready.”
“What?” She stopped stirring her finger around the glass and looked at me.
“You’re not stupid.” I shrugged. “You know it’s inevitable.”
She grabbed her straw and stabbed it through the crushed ice. “We’ll see. Why do you care anyway?” she asked. “Why can’t you let me deal with things my way?”
Because it wasn’t healthy. Because she was avoiding rather than recovering. And… “Because you’re hurting yourself.”
I leaned over the table. “And, sorry to remind you—” No, I wasn’t. “—but you’re not the only one affected by this. We need to talk about our relationship.”
She flushed, and her expression gutted me, but I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I needed to mentally prepare myself for what to expect.
“W-what do you want from m-me?” Her question twisted my heart.
But I needed to know. “Expectations.”
“W-what expectations?” Her fear spiked, and her voice squeaked. “Julian said…” her statement trailed off as she stared at me, eyes wide.
“And you told Julian,” I interrupted. “Miles, too, even Damen. But you’ve never toldme.”
“But they’ve told you, right?” she whispered.
“Yes,” I began cautiously. “But we still have to talk about it.”
“What’s there to talk about?” Her eyes dropped from mine. “I can’t have sex.”
