See Me(67)

“Not enough. Which is kind of sad, since the balcony is one of the reasons I bought the condo in the first place. I think I had this idea that I’d unwind out here after work, but it usually doesn’t turn out that way. Most nights, I’ll have a quick dinner and either plant myself at the dining room table or at the desk in the spare bedroom with my MacBook.” She shrugged. “The whole trying-to-get-ahead thing again, but we’ve already talked about that, haven’t we?”

“We’ve talked about a lot of things.”

“Does that mean you’re getting bored with me already?”

He turned toward her, his eyes reflecting the evening light. “No.”

“You know what I find interesting about you?” Colin waited, saying nothing. “You don’t feel the need to always explain your reasoning when you answer questions. You get straight to the point. The only time you elaborate is when you’re asked to do so. You’re a man of very few words.”

“Okay.”

“That’s exactly what I mean!” she teased. “But all right, you’ve made me curious. Why don’t you elaborate unless you’re specifically asked to do so?”

“Because it’s easier. And it takes less time.”

“Don’t you think that including others in your thought process helps them understand you better?”

“That assumes they want to understand me better. And if they do, they’ll ask me to explain and then I’ll do it.”

“And if they don’t ask?”

“Then they probably don’t care about my reasoning in the first place. They just want to know the answer. I know I do. If I ask someone what time it is, I don’t need a history of clock-making and I don’t care who gave them the watch, or how expensive it was, or whether it was a Christmas present. I just want the time.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about trying to get to know someone. Making conversation.”

“So am I. But not everyone needs – or even wants – to know why you feel the way you do about something. Some things are better left private.”

“Excuse me? Weren’t you the one who told me your life story that first night on the beach?”

“You asked questions and I answered them.”

“And you think that works?”

“It has for us. We have no trouble talking.”

“But that’s because I ask a lot of questions.”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I do. Or we’d end up like some of those older couples I see in coffee shops who don’t say a word to each other while they eat breakfast. Of course, that’s probably right up your alley. I can easily imagine you going an entire day without saying anything to anyone.”

“Sometimes I do.”

“That’s not normal.”

“Okay.”

She took a sip of wine and waved a hand at him. “More detail, please.”

“I don’t know what ‘normal’ really means. I think everyone has his own definition, and it’s shaped by culture, by family and friends, by character and experience, by events and a thousand other things. What’s normal for one person isn’t normal for another. For some people, jumping out of airplanes is crazy. For other people, life isn’t worth living without it.”

She nodded, conceding the point. Still…

“All right. Without me asking a question first, I want you to say how you really feel about something. Something unexpected and completely off topic. Something I wouldn’t expect you to say. And then elaborate, without me having to ask a single question.”

“Why?”

“Humor me,” she said, nudging him. “Just for fun.”

He rotated the wineglass with his fingers before raising his eyes to hers. “You’re amazing. You’re intelligent and beautiful and it should be easy for you to meet someone who doesn’t have my past, who hasn’t made the mistakes I have… Truthfully, it makes me wonder what I’m doing here, or why you even invited me. Part of me thinks that all of this is too good to be true and that it’s going to come crashing down, but even if it does, it wouldn’t change the fact that you’ve already added something to my life, something that I hadn’t even realized was missing.” Colin paused. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “You’ve come to mean more to me than I think you realize. Before you came along, I had Evan and Lily, and I thought that was enough. But it isn’t. Not anymore. Not since last weekend. Being with you makes me feel vulnerable again, and I haven’t felt vulnerable since I was a kid. I can’t say that I always like it, but the alternative would be worse because it would mean not seeing you again.”

Maria realized she’d been holding her breath; by the time he finished, she felt almost dizzy, overwhelmed by his response, and tried to steady herself.

Colin, on the other hand, continued to exude an easy confidence, and it was that, more than anything, which allowed her to regain her equilibrium.

“I’m not sure what to say,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it because I wanted a response. I said it because I wanted to.”

She wrapped both hands around the stem of her glass. “May I ask you a question?” she asked shyly. “About something else?”