I watched him from the stool by the counter, his movements as graceful as the way he talked. There was something so captivating about the way Dr. Aldrich did even the simplest tasks—like washing the dishes. Or maybe it was just me seeing my own things.
I caught myself staring again, wondering what it was about him that kept drawing me in. Was it the calmness in him? His sense of control? The way he deeply yet effortfully cared about me?
But then, why was a man like him—gorgeous, so successful, driven—alone? Why would he choose to be here with me instead of trying to fix his relationship with his son? I was certain that Vincent would die if he knew he was with me.
I could not help but think about the way Vincent spoke about his mother. The way he said she had died. No emotion, no sign of
