I sighed. “I wanted to go to law school, but that didn’t pan out. I don’t know if I still want to do that now. I should know what I want at my age, but I don’t. I guess, the truth is that I just need more time. I need to grow up a bit.”
Timothy walked towards me, his face serene, his eyes soft and gentle. “I will put you through law school if you want. You know that. Anything you want.”
I turned away. “I don’t want your money. I want to be independent. I want to . . .”
“Yes. To be a modern woman. I understand,” he added tenderly.
I’d been about to walk into the bathroom. I needed a shower. No bubbles and soaking, just a plain shower so I could get the dust of the day out of my hair. But I stopped, freezing in place.
I was remembering the story he’d told me, how he’d been so alone, the only one of his kind. Even his childhood friend, Andrew, wasn’t a pooka. And then Timothy had been forced to adapt to centuries and centuries of social change, to constant moving about to prevent the discovery of his identity. Few close friends. No relationships. He was really an amazing human being to have survived all that, except he wasn’t. Not a human being. Not exactly.
But distrust of his alienness . . . or fear of being swept into the whirlwind that was Timothy. . . that wasn’t what was stopping me. It was leaving my grandmother’s apartment, quitting my job, and never seeing my friends again. No, he hadn’t said that I couldn’t do those things. He hadn’t required me to do anything, actually. He’d just said that he accepted my decisions and was waiting with patience . . .
“Ok,” I said, turning around. “But can I still keep my job and live in my apartment, see my friends, and get a cat?”
“Anything and everything,” he stated, giving me a full-faced and very genuine smile.
I nodded and continued into the bathroom to shower. I half expected Timothy to join me, but he didn’t. Instead, when I stepped out of the bathroom, grabbed my clothes, and retreated back inside, he continued to sit on the couch staring into space. Had I broken him? Was he regretting the whole idea now?
My shower had been quick. Dressed, I stepped out. My hair was wet, but I’d wrapped it up in a towel. I was wearing another of the new sweatshirts Timothy had bought me. This one said, Join the Herd. Underneath that was an etched panda shirt. Timothy had truly spoiled me, buying all the things he’d thought might please me.
“I am happy that I have made you smile with the purchases I made for you, but I think we need to back up a bit,” he said with gravel in his voice and a stern look on his extremely handsome face.
Here it came. Timothy was probably already wiggling out of his proposal. No surprise there. A gorgeous, rich guy wants to marry a plain legal secretary. Okay, so I had some fancy title, but what did it mean? Mr. Peters was right. I was just a simple secretary, a glorified one, perhaps, but ordinary.