Roman, you’re a great guy. You’re the perfect man.”
“There’s no such thing.” The bitterness makes me recoil. “I’m not telling you this because I want you to tell me what a great catch I am, or for you to inflate my ego. I’m telling you this because it’s how I feel. It’s also the truth. That won’t change anytime soon, so for the sake of never having this conversation again, please, just drop it.”
Ouch. What a slap to her ego.
Her sniffles reveal his harsh words have sunk in. “Fine, have it your way then. You’re going to die a lonely old man.”
“One can only hope.”
I cock a brow, unsure what he means.
A sniff follows Tamara’s exasperated sigh. “Goodbye, Roman.” Her heels pound against the front porch and down the wooden stairs.
I don’t even know how to process what I just heard. I wanted to get a better insight into Roman’s personal life, and now that I have, I’m even more confused. I believe him when he says he’s telling her this for her own good. He truly believes he’s no good for her, or anyone, in fact. But the thing is, he’s not telling her this because he has low self-esteem or needs an ego boost. He’s telling her because he’s burdened with something he believes makes him an undesirable partner.
What is it?
“You can come out now.”
It doesn’t surprise me that I’m completely busted. You’d think I’d care, but I don’t. I can now address the issues scratching at the surface.
Roman stands in the center of the living room, arms crossed. He waits for me to speak. “So…”
“So…”
“You’ve got the afternoon off. That’s a nice change.” I need some warmup time before I endeavor to ask him to unburden his soul. He’s obviously not expecting my response because he suddenly bursts into a husky fit of laughter.
I could pester him and ask him to decode what the entire conversation meant, but although he’s wedged his way into my life and made me face things I haven’t wanted to face, he’s always done so within my limits. I have an inkling this is a touchy subject for Roman, and I know what it feels like when someone pushes when you don’t want to be pushed.
He has, in a roundabout way, respected my wishes, so I’ll do the same. If he wants to tell me about his past, then I want it to be because he wants to share it, not because I asked.
“Seeing as you’re free, how about we get some lunch?” Furrow lines gather between his brow. He thinks there’s a catch, but there isn’t.
When my stance radiates nothing but sincerity, his posture loosens, and his arms drop to his side. “Sure. I know how much you loved riding my bike,” he muses. “So lucky for you, I have another means of transportation with four wheels.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I defiantly challenge, “Where’s the fun in that?”
Roman shakes his head. “You’re full of surprises.” My bold response catches him off guard.
Deciding this will be the only acknowledgment I’ll make about what I just witnessed, I affirm, “We both are.”
After lunch, Roman stopped into the grocery store because that one lonely banana in his fruit bowl was the only speck of food in his home.
The distraction of stocking Roman’s fridge has taken my mind off things. It’s been nice to worry about someone other than me.
“Are you hungry?” His question is simple, but I stand, mute. “Seeing as I have all this food, how about we cook some of it?”
“You want to eat? Here?” I question, ensuring I heard him correctly.
He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Unless you have something against food and my house and want to go back?”
“No!” I reply, a little louder than I anticipated. I cringe as I quickly backtrack. “Sure, I could eat. What’s on the menu?”
“Do you like pasta?”
“I love pasta,” I reply with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Pasta, it is then.” A bubble of excitement swells in my belly. I’m overjoyed to be spending the evening here.
Roman brushes past me while I quickly sidestep to get out of the way. However, when he opens a drawer and stands back, scratching his head, I know he has no idea what he’s looking for.
“Move out of the way.” I bustle in, playfully shoving him to the side with my hip. He goes willingly.
I collect everything I need to make an easy spaghetti Bolognese. Roman takes a seat on a barstool, watching my