Read Online Everything but the marriage by Dallas Schulze - Free Book Online

she said abruptly. He shot her a quick glance, but she wasn't looking at him. There didn't seem to be much he could say in reply, so he said nothing, letting her work out her thoughts.
    "At least, I don't think I did," she added, as if she felt she should be scrupulously honest.
    "You don't owe me any explanations."
    "Don't I?" She eyed him uncertainly. "It seems to me that you ought to know, one way or another. The thing is, I'm not a hundred percent certain myself." She toyed with her fork. "I wish I were," she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
    He was just going to let the subject drop, Devlin thought. He didn't want to get into an emotionally loaded conversation. Whether or not she'd tried to kill herself was a matter of almost complete indifference to him.
    "Were you thinking about killing yourself?"
    The abrupt question seemed to startle her. She looked at him, her eyes uncertain.
    "I don't know." The promptness of the answer made it clear that it was no more or less than the truth.

    She really didn't know what had been on her mind, in her heart.
    "Does it really matter at all that much, one way or the other?"
    "I should know, shouldn't I?"
    "Why?"
    She stared at him, groping for an answer to the simple question. Of course, it was important for hCT to know what had really happened. After all, you couldn't attempt to kill yourself and not know it. Could you? She frowned and looked away from that cool blue gaze. What did he know, anyway?
    "It's just important. That's all." Her answer carried a hint of peevishness that almost made Devlin smile.
    "Do you want to die, now?"
    "No." Her eyes swept to his again.
    "Then does it really matter all that much what you did yesterday? Knowing isn't going to change what happened, whether you fell or jumped. And it isn't going to change how you feel now."
    "No, but I'd stiU like to know."
    Devlin took his time chewing and swallowing his last bite of steak and then pushed the plate away. Crossing his forearms on the table in front of him, he looked at her, his eyes unreadable.
    "That riverbank isn't all that stable at the best of times. In the midst of a heavy rain, it's even more prone to crumble. You were standing close to the edge. In fact, I was just about to call over to you and warn you when you slipped."

    Annalise digested this, feeling a burden lift from her shoulders. '*Then you don't think I jumped?"
    He shrugged. "I think it's pretty likely that the bank crumbled under you."
    "Thank you." Her smile was wider this time, a bit uncertain, as if it had been a long time since she'd used it.
    Devlin didn't like the odd little pain that smile caused in his chest. "Your dinner's getting cold," he said brusquely.
    Annalise picked up her fork, more to be polite, he suspected, than because she was interested in the food. Whatever the reason, it wouldn't hurt her to eat a bit more.
    God, listen to him. He was beginning to sound like a mother hen. He'd never thought of himself as a particularly paternal type, but something about Annalise brought out a long-buried urge to fuss. He'd just as soon bury it again, he thought sourly.
    "Where do you live?"
    Annalise's fork hit the plate with a snap.
    "Live?" She repeated the word as if unsure of its meaning.
    "I was just wondering if there was someone who'd be worried about you."
    He was watching her face carefully and he thought he saw a tinge of relief, as if the second question was easier to answer than the first.
    "No, there's no one." She hesitated but seemed to feel the need to add something. "I've been traveling for a while, actually. I don't really have a permanent address."

    Or a temporary one, either, he'd be wilUng to bet. It would have been cruel to ask her why she'd been traveling or what she'd been doing. He might be many things, but cruel was not one of them.
    "Do you have a car?" She blinked at him, as if the question was a difficult one.
    "Yes," she said slowly, frowning as if the memory were vague. "It died. I didn't