Page 78 of Time To Learn

“Do you believe in that?” I whisper.

She turns her head back to me, and upon seeing the caution in her stormy, grey eyes, I get the most overwhelming urge to kick myarse.

“I believe it happens to some,” she whispers back. “That there are a few lucky people in the world who find their soul mates—but most of us don’t getthat.”

I tilt my head at her, almost afraid to ask the next question.

“Wasn’t your husband your soul mate?” I hold my breath, heart hammering away in my chest. I want her to say no—but I’m being selfish.

I don’t give afuck.

She snaps her mouth shut and turns her face away fromme.

“For a while, I thought he might be, but…no. He wasn’t.”

I curse under my breath. I was wrong—I’m sad forher.

“Hey.” I reach out my hand and touch her cheek, wanting to make her look at me again. Alarmed, I suppress the need to wrap her up in my arms when I see the tears swimming in hereyes.

“Hey, what’s this? Laura?”

“Please don’t ask me any questions,” she pleads, her voice so low I can hardly hearher.

I lean further down until our foreheads touch.

“Just breathe,” I murmur.

She nods once and does as Isay.

I’m beyond confused by her tears, but then a staggering thought hits me when I glance to look more closely at the scar on her cheek. My pulse speeds up, and a sinking feeling settles in my gut. The longer I look at it, the more anger replaces my concern. My body is locked in place, and I feel wired—as if I’m about to snap. It’s fucking irrational, but now that the suspicion is born inside me, I can’t get it out of mymind.

“Don’t.”

I pinch my eyes shut tight at the sound of steel in her voice, and I have to take a deep breath to keep my rising temper in check.

“Just answer me this,” I growl. My hand tightens on the back of her neck, keeping her in place.

Silence. I don’t know if she will relent, but I havetoknow.

“Are you sad he’sdead?”

More silence, our heavy breathing splitting my ears as if we were in the middle of a heavy metal concert.

“No.”

I wet my lips as the adrenaline running through my veins slowlyebbs.

“No, you’re not sorry? Or no, you won’t answer?”

I need her to be specific. Everything—no matter where we go from here—hinges on her reply.

I count the seconds as I wait, wondering if she’ll tell me the truth.

Finally, she inhales deeply as she moves to rest her cheek against mine. I can feel her tilt up her head as her warm breath fans across myjaw.

“No, I’m not sad he’sdead.”

Fucking. Hell.