Page 31 of My Heart's Doctor
“Why are you interested?” I asked, not knowing what to say, but not sure if I wanted to know the answer.
“Why? Why? Don’t you know how to say anything else? Do you have to question everything I say?”
“Excuse me, but I don’t see why I have to explain things about my life to you. Would you answer these questions? I don’t think you would…”
“I’m a widower and I’m not in that kind of relationship right now,” he said, interrupting me.
For a few minutes we just looked into each other’s eyes, blue versus gray trying to figure out what the other was thinking.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said.
“What are you sorry about?” he asked, looking at me in that way that made my heart skip several beats.
“About your wife.”
“It’s been a few years now, she passed away a few months after Aurora was born.”
“I truly am sorry for you and Aurora. It couldn’t have been easy raising a baby alone.”
“It’s still complicated and I suppose it will be for the rest of my life, but I have employees who help me.”
I looked at him but didn’t say anything, because the love and attention of a mother and/or father couldn’t be replaced by anything or anyone, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
The song came to an end and I tried to pull away from him to return to my table, but he held me tighter to prevent me from doing so. I looked at him surprised and confused.
“You didn’t answer me,” he stated, challenging me with his gaze.
“What?”
“Are you in a romantic relationship?” he asked, surprising me again with his direct and determined way of asking.
For a few seconds I just stared at him, but when I was about to respond, Orson stood beside me.
“You’ve had your dance, Cavaller. Shall we go back to the table, Devon?”
I looked at Orson, amazed by his attitude, but I assumed my friend had thought I wasn’t comfortable and wanted torescueme. After all, I had told him that I thought this man was a brute.
“Thank you for the dance, Mr. Cavaller,” I said gratefully.
He just looked at me, nodded his head, and walked away from us. As we were heading to the table, I felt my legs trembling and about to give way at any moment, so I held onto my friend’s arm.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course,” I lied again. “Why did you do that?”
“Interrupt you?”
“Exactly.”
“Because I’m a man and I know there’s nothing worse than being interested in someone and having someone else ruin your plans. I ruined his to make him a little jealous. I assure you that if the guy really has any kind of interest in you, he won’t hesitate to make a good move to get me out of the game. You can tell me later and thank me, beautiful,” Orson said with great confidence.
“What makes you think he has any interest in me?” I asked, wanting to know my friend’s opinion.
“The fact that I have eyes in my face, a lot of knowledge on the subject, and a hunch. All I ask is that you don’t forget what we talked about at lunch today. Enjoy life, Devon. Don’t overthink it.”
I looked at him but didn’t say anything. Enjoy myself with Cavaller? Was I willing to sleep with him? The truth was that I was very attracted to him and found him very sensual, to the point that he had given methose butterflies in my stomach that I didn’t remember could be felt. When I had been in his arms, the sensation of his body pressed against mine had been indescribable. I couldn’t remember feeling like this before. Although I had loved Lino, or so I thought, we had met very young—I was barely 18 and Lino was 20—and I had married at 22. Lino had been the only man I’d had sex with. So, at the slightest possibility of being able to sleep with Cavaller, I felt such anxiety that I wanted to run away. To tell the truth, it was like feeling elated and terrified in equal measure.
“Shall we go?” Orson asked, a while later.
