Damaged And the Bulldog
“Winnie asked to see the place I called home and I took the hint.
When we arrived, I retrieved us drinks and we sat on the balcony.
“I like it here,” she said.
Based on the fear in her voice, Winnie was lying. I didn’t blame her for disliking the sterile apartment. On more than one occasion, I’d stopped at one of those decorating places like Hobby Lobby. I wanted to give my apartment character, but nothing clicked. I couldn’t even decide on a paint color. The empty walls made the place feel cold.
“I have two houses I’m renovating. An old Victorian and a midcentury ranch. I figure I’ll keep one of them for myself. I’ll move in when I have someone to share it with.”
Winnie refused to even glance in my direction and I doubted she heard me. When she finally focused on my face, I was startled by the terror in her eyes.
“I care about you a lot.”
As a guy, I knew what those words meant and figured she was dumping me. “I care about you too.”
“I want to be close to you.”
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