Page 49 of The October Arrangement
“Not men. You.”
I chuckled. “You’ve known me for less than a week.”
“And you made a ten-rule list within twenty-four hours. I’m a quick study.” She grinned.
“There’s nothing wrong with rules, Bella.”
“There’s nothing wrong with relationships either.”
“That is debatable.” I pointed my fork at her.
“So, you’ve never had one?”
“I’ve dated many women.”
“That wasn’t my question, Simon.”
“I know.” I winked.
“Simon.” She cocked her head.
“What do you want me to say, Bella?”
“The truth. All I want is the truth.”
The truth. That was the problem. I didn’t talk about this shit. And I sure as hell didn’t discuss my childhood over dinner.
“Fine. I’ve never wanted one.”
“Why?” Her brows furrowed.
“My life works the way it is. I like my independence. I like knowing what to expect. I don’t want someone needing to know where I am, what I’m doing, why I didn’t call, why I worked late, and why I didn’t text back fast enough.”
“Wow. That is oddly specific.”
“They’re examples, Bella.”
“So,” she wiped her mouth with her napkin, “this isn’t about relationships at all. It’s about expectations.”
“I don’t want either,” I said.
“Why?” She picked up her glass and finished her drink.
She wasn’t going to let it go, and I was getting irritated.
“You really want to know?” I cocked my head.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“My parents had a bad marriage when I was growing up. And you want to know what the sad part is?”
“What?”
“I’d never seen my father happier since my mother died.”
The server walked over and handed me the bill. I pulled out my credit card and handed it to him.
“Simon, that’s awful.”
