“It wasn’t an ideal situation. I wasn’t a welcome addition to their household.”

“Then how did you end up with them?”

He stared into the dark depths of his coffee and dredged up the story that had shaped his life. “My mother died in childbirth at nineteen without ever revealing the name of my father. Since she was an only child, and our few distant relatives were scattered around the country, I’d have gone into the foster system if my grandparents hadn’t taken me. So after consulting with their pastor, they did their Christian duty. And that’s what I always felt like. A duty.”

The room went quiet, the admission hanging in the air between them.

He lifted his head, and at the compassion radiating from her, he nearly lost it. No one had ever looked at him with such gentleness and empathy. It was almost as if Eve could feel the pain that had plagued him for decades—which was crazy.

Yet it felt real.

“I’m sorry, Brent.” The ache in her whisper tightened his throat. “I can’t imagine growing up in that kind of environment.”

He gave a stiff shrug, hanging on to his composure by a hair. “I survived.”

“Are your grandparents still living?”

“No. My grandmother died eight years ago, my grandfather eleven months later. After they retired to Florida when I was twenty, I didn’t see much of them.” He picked up the fork, ran the tines through the icing, and let the sweetness dissolve on his tongue.

But it couldn’t mask the lingering bitterness he’d tried for years to vanquish.

Eve leaned forward, concern etching her features. “They didn’t neglect you—or mistreat you—did they?”

“Not in the way you mean. I always had enough to eat, clean clothes, and a warm place to sleep. As long as I followed the house rules, life was placid. But they were aloof people, and it was a lonely childhood. That’s why I developed such a love for reading. Books let me escape to happier places.”

Eve’s eyes began to shimmer. “Given your home life, I can’t believe you turned out as normal as you did.”

If only.

“That depends on how you define normal. I have a career I enjoy. I have a faith that sustains me, thanks to a youth leader at our church who took me under his wing when I was nine. I show up for work, pay my bills, take a vacation once in a while, volunteer with Big Brothers. But not every part of my life is normal.”

“Such as?” Eve’s question was mild, undemanding—and if he didn’t want to answer it, she wasn’t going to push.

He took a sip of his coffee . . . debating.