Page 238 of The Professor's Wife
I smiled. “I’ll pretend that means something to me.”
His stern countenance broke, and he chuckled softly. “It’s a small town in Alberta.”
“How small?”
“Small.”
“One traffic light?”
“Two.”
I raised my brows. “A bustling metropolis, then.”
“One of them barely works.”
“I bet you took advantage of that.”
“I did.”
“So, you were raised in lawlessness.”
His mouth twitched. “Something like that.”
“Did everyone know everyone?”
“They knew every person, kitten and insect.”
“Insects too?”
“By their Christian name.”
I bit my lip, swallowing a laugh. “That sounds traumatizing. You couldn’t even embarrass yourself properly without your mother hearing about it before you got home.”
He laughed. “Spoken from experience. You embarrass yourself often, Daze?”
“Not anymore.” The answer left me before I could soften it. I looked down at my water. “I used to be quite good at it.”
“I believe you.”
I smiled. “Is that why you left? Because of the nosy Christian insects and barely working streetlight?”
“No, I had it good.” He paused, reflecting. “I have a bit of land, and I was close to work, but…I made a promise to my old man.”
“That you would travel?” I wondered, seeming to guess where he was going.
“That I would spread his ashes over Ammonite Falls.”
I went still, surprised. My smile fell. “He passed away?”
His voice was strangely void of emotion. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Tristan.”
He shrugged, looking down at the glass. “We all die, Daze.”
My eyes misted over. That simple statement felt oddly comforting and painful at the same time. I blinked rapidly and swallowed down the lump in my throat.
“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”
