“What were your parents like?” I’ve never asked about them before. Not even when I was younger. Even when I had my youth to fall back on for false bravery, I knew better than to ask. They were both deceased, that’s the extent of what both Mom and I know. Roman draws a perfect bite of pasta onto his fork. “What specifically do you want to know?” “Were they as outgoing as you?” His jaw clenches and I congratulate myself but steady my features. “They were socialites, and my father kept regular attendance at the golf course.” “How did they die?” “They drank.” “Poison? They go out in a
...more
