She would certainly make the perfect mistress for the summer and he couldn’t, in good conscience, allow himself to think of her as anything more than that. And yet, was that fair to her? Deep down he knew the answer, but he shoved it away. The broken shards of himself were much too sharp to care for someone without injury, both to himself and to the other person.
Oh so after it not mattering for 50% of the book... SUDDENLY his wartime is actually serving a purpose.
