He gives me a quick glance, then he looks away, staring into space for a couple of minutes before dropping his hand on top of the duvet. I take his hand into mine, and put my other hand on top of it, soothing him.
"Some other time, please?" He looks at me, his eyes pleading with me not to insist, and I understand him.
It must be still hurting to talk about his life, or maybe he doesn't trust me with his secrets. That time will surely come, Andy, and I will be here waiting to listen to all your worries and fears, because I know those are the things holding you back from trusting again.
"Okay. Forget every other thing. Can you tell me how you became a filthy billionaire? You should be so proud of everything you have accomplished in life. Everybody in the world would want to be where you
