Page 253 of The Professor's Wife

“If I eat, will you eat too?” I wondered. “Because I don’t think booze will make you a fun dinner companion.”

His face gentled. “I have no desire to drink when you’re here.”

“You sure?”

There was only honesty in his gaze. “I’m sure, Daisy.”

I believed him.

Food was delivered twenty minutes later. Burgers and fries. So much saturated fat. I’d had nothing but clean food for years. I ate the meal, savoring every fry with my eyes closed. I felt Tristan watching me. His lips flinched and his eyes danced with amusement.

When we finished, the silence felt more pronounced.

Tristan broke it. “How much longer do I have you for?”

I glanced at the clock again. “I should be leaving soon.”

His eyes deadened. “I don’t share, Daisy. This isn’t who I am.”

The food suddenly didn’t sit well in my stomach. I looked down at my shaky hands. “He hasn’t touched me, Tristan.”

He didn’t respond for a few moments. “I got out of a messy relationship over a year ago. She didn’t want to slow down. Ididn’t want to get my hands dirty trying to clean up after her. I haven’t been with a person since. It was my idea of healing and figuring shit out.”

He stopped talking now and just watched me. His teeth ran over his bottom lip, lost in thought now as I absorbed his words.

“I don’t do this,” I explained quietly. “You’re the only one, Tristan.”

“What did he do to you?”

I swallowed back bile and shook my head. He didn’t let it sit.

“You said this wasn’t revenge, yet your guy was hanging around two different women in that restaurant while you were forced to stand outside it, waiting on him. He took you by the jaw and stared at your mouth, inspecting your fucking lips like you’d disappointed him, and you looked…fucking used to it.”

I couldn’t breathe now, but my eyes bore into Tristan’s. “I can’t talk about this.”

“Why not?”

My eyes glistened. “Because, like your ex, I’m also messy. You’ll spend your whole life trying to wash your hands clean of my issues, and you’ll never get the dirt off.”

“Maybe I like the dirt. Ever think of that?”

“No,” I said quietly, shocked by his response.

“Then come back. You got it? Tomorrow come back to me.”

The water had begun to cool by the time the memory released me.

I turned it off. Wrapped the towel around me. Stared at myself in the mirror and breathed.

Leaving Tristan was harder than I thought it would be. So many times I’d been in that room, thinking,Maybe I’ll stay right here with you.

But how could he accept me? How could he ever consider anything more than just a fuck with me? I’d already proved myself dirty by fucking another man. He wouldn’t understand, would he? He wouldn’t believe me. No one would ever believe me next to Oliver. On top of that, my gut screamed not to run, not like this. That something bad would follow.

And even if I did leave, what did I have to offer him?

I was nothing.

A nobody.