I still wasn’t ready to deal with all the memories.
Climbing into bed, I closed my eyes to remember when Tristan and I were together, happy and in love.
The warm summer air drifted in through the window, lightly billowing the deep green sheers and carrying the sweet scent of honeysuckle across the room to where we sat. Still dressed in his suit and tie, Tristan leaned against the back of the couch and closed his eyes.
I loved these moments together, just the two of us sitting quietly at the end of the day, not saying a thing to ruin the peaceful silence we shared. For me, this was a change. All my life, I’d filled in the gaps with words rather than experience an awkward silence, but with Tristan, I’d learned to appreciate that silence. Sliding my finger down his red silk tie, I watched a sly smile slowly spread across his lips.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love this after a long day?”
He opened his eyes, and I saw how much these moments meant to him. “Yes, but not yet today,” I teased.
Tristan sighed and reached out to touch my hand. “All day I look forward to these moments. No more people wanting me for a thousand reasons. No more caring about hotels and the bottom line of the other Stone Worldwide businesses. Just quiet and you.”
Even though we hadn’t said the words “I love you” yet to each other, it was obvious in every other word and every action. We didn’t need to say that to know we loved one another. It was the first time in my life that I truly knew how a man felt about me.
I rested my head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat next to my cheek. That steadiness made me feel secure like never before in my life. For all the strangeness that had been a part of our meeting, we’d settled into a sweet space that gave me a sense of stability I’d never known I wanted but now never wanted to be without.
Slowly, his fingers trailed up and down my back. “Tell me about your day,” he whispered above me.
“You don’t want to hear about my boring day full of art.”
I knew how he felt about the artwork I chose for the suites and penthouses. He pretended to be interested, but the man was no art lover. That’s what I was in his life for.
“I’d listen just to hear you speak.”
Lifting my head, I looked up at him and saw that sexy look in his eyes. “Is that what you really want?” I teased.
“Want to know what I really want?”
I loved this Tristan, the playful, gentle soul who could be so open and sweet and who so infrequently showed himself. Charmed, I would have done anything he asked. He had that effect on me.
“I can guess,” I said with a wink. “I thought you were tired, but I like the way you think.”
He eased me off him, and standing up, held his hand out to me. “Come.”
I joined him and expected to be led to the bedroom we now shared, but instead he smiled and whispered, “Don’t move.”
Walking over to the opposite side of the room, he dimmed the lights until the room glowed a soft amber color. I watched him do something in the corner before he returned and pulled me close. Kissing the top of my head, he whispered, “May I have this dance?”
I looked around and waited for music, but none came. “Tristan, what are we dancing to?”
“Give it a second.”
Very slowly, he began swaying back and forth as he held me to him. At least ten seconds went by and then I heard the first sad notes of a song I hadn’t heard in ages. I remembered it instantly.
Nothing Compares 2U by Sinead O’Connor.
While we danced there in the sitting room where we’d first kissed, Tristan whispered the words of the song to me, nearly breaking my heart. He sounded so sad. The song ended and another one I’d never heard began as we continued to slowly sway to the music. Quietly, he said, “When I was a little boy, I heard that song every day. My mother loved it and played it over and over.”
Looking up at him, I said, “I never took you for a Sinead O’Connor fan. It’s a pretty song, but not one I’d think of for you.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’ve never heard another song by her. All I know is that song.”
“You know all the words.”
“It’s hard not to after hearing it hundreds of times.”
We fell silent for a few moments as we held each other, and I listened to the song playing. “Do you know the words to this one?” I asked him while we danced.
He seemed lost in memory as he looked off in the distance, squeezing me tightly to him. “No. Just that first one.”
“Is everything okay, Tristan? You seem a million miles away.”
My question was met with a smile, and he looked down at me. “Just thinking. I never did understand why she listened to that song so often. Taylor hated it and would run out of the room every time she put it on. She’d just smile and begin singing the words.”