I was staring at Blake in disbelief as I waited for him to explain what he meant. I couldn’t say a word; I was terrified that if I spoke I would end up revealing the truth about myself when he was probably talking about something harmless.
He wasn’t who I thought he was.
I thought he was an arrogant bully, but he was really this thoughtful guy with a troubled home life. He lived with his abusive alcoholic brother, and he was a really talented artist who was passionate about his work.
But he knew that I wasn’t who I said, either.
Who did he think I was, really?
Did he think that my naivety was an act? Did my stoic acceptance that Brooke might die give away the fact I had suffered losses like that before? Did he just not believe that I was as sheltered as I seemed?
I laughed nervously
