“What about the arts?” he asked, with a small smile on his handsome face.
I squirmed. “What about them?”
“Do you enjoy them?”
“Well I suppose I do …. I prefer Banksy though, and other street art. I tend to feel out of place at art museums, ballet shows, and opera houses.”
“Hmm.. well we’ll see if I can change that.”
“You put your guard up! You always do! You won’t let anyone in… I don’t know what I was doing, thinking I would be an exception.”
I turned from him, feeling tears sting my eyes.
He was.. he was the exception. I loved him.
But I still couldn’t tell him.
I couldn’t tell him who I was, I couldn’t tell him what I did for a living, it would…[Read more]