13

Ian is seated behind a large oak desk that dominates the room. He looks up at my entrance. And I catch a look of surprise etched on his features before he becomes unreadable again. “I thought you’d be resting by now”

The walls are covered in shelves housing books. There is a sitting area leading just up to his desk spanning two black leather couches, and two side tables holding decanter of alcohol.

Stealing my spine, I walk to the middle of the room, stopping between his table and the bit of space spanning his sitting area, there’s more than enough distance between us.

"I needed to talk to you, is this a good time? I can come back later" I say then winced already I'm thinking of ways to turn back my mind whispered.

No, I just prefer not to disturb him, Dad didn't like interruptions when he was working.

Ian motioned to the seats on the other side of his desk.

I shake my head. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

I wring my hands in front of me, then bring them down to my sides,