Page 29 of Crumbling Truth
I laughed, covered her hand with mine, and said, “If he gets near you again? No promises.”
She left her hand there until I pulled into the driveway and I felt its absence like an icy dagger between my ribs. When I shifted into park and turned off the engine, she made no move to get out of the truck, so I stretched my arm along the seatback and rotated my body toward her.
“Tyler aside, that was less terrible than I expected,” she said quietly.
I grinned at her. “Just once, I’d like one of our dates to be better thannot terrible.Think we can make that happen?”
When she turned her head, the smooth silk of her hair slipped across the back of my hand, tantalizingly lush and soft. I liftedmy left hand to cup her cheek and watched her fight back a flinch. Dropping it back to my lap, I sighed.
“Can I ask you something?”
Esther’s nose wrinkled. “If you must.”
“You don’t owe me any information and I won’t ask for anything more, but even as a fake boyfriend, I feel like I need to know one thing.” I waited for her to tell me to piss off, but she just gave a quick nod, so I steeled myself for the answer and asked, “Did your husband hurt you?”
Surprise washed over her features. “Oh. No. Not physically.”
It wasn’t the reassurance I’d hoped to get, so I just repeated, “Not physically.”
Esther sighed. “He was…manipulative. He isolated me from my friends, even somehow managed to win over my parents so they wouldn’t help me get a divorce.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“No. He spent years systematically breaking me down, criticizing everything about me, flying into a rage over anything he perceived as a mistake.”
I wondered why she hadn’t left him, hadn’t gone to Sofia for help if her parents weren’t willing, but I stopped myself before I could make the mistake of speaking that aloud. Hell, I’d read enough about the psychology of abuse to know it wasn’t that simple. Esther was brilliant and resourceful—if she’d felt trapped, it was because of what her asshole husband had done to make her that way.
Even without speaking a word, she caught the look on my face and shook her head like she was disappointed in me for thinking it.
“You’re right. I should never have let it get to that point.”
“That’s not what I was going to say, Esther.”
She made a disbelieving sound. “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead, and I’m free. Dickheads like Tyler have no power over me anymore.”
“Esther,” I said softly, “I’m sorry I brought it up. Even if he wasn’t abusing you physically, emotional abuse is still abuse.”
“Yes, it is. Does that answer all your questions?”
Briefly, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry for asking, but I needed to know. This doesn’t have to be real dating to involve real issues and I don’t want to hurt you with some misstep. I had a girlfriend years ago who’d been in an abusive relationship. She didn’t want to tell me about it, but her roommate mentioned it once a few weeks in. I wished I’d known sooner.”
“Right. Well, it was a long time ago, but I appreciate your concern,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“Esther, hang on. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She flashed a bright smile that was so clearly fake, I felt my chest cave in a little. “I’m fine. I’ll touch base with you in a few days about our next public appearance. I should get to bed, I have a lot of work to get done this week.”
Fuck.
“Please wait,” I begged, but before I could even open my mouth to continue, she shook her head.
“It’s fine, Theo. Really. I’m just tired.”
Though I wanted to take back every word of the last five minutes, it was too late for that. I was a fool for pushing her so soon and the worst kind of hypocrite, given that I hadn’t opened up to her in the same way.
With a sigh, I waited until she finally glanced at me again to offer the gentlest smile I could manage.
She didn’t smile back, not even a fake one, just gave a jerky nod and practically fled from the truck, disappearing into the guest house before I even set foot on the driveway.
