Ruin: Revelations by Lucian Bane Page B

wherever” was the committed time she’d tell him about it. She wasn’t looking forward to it, mostly because she didn’t like thinking about it. There were too many questions she had still, to be answering his.
    “I remember,” he smiled at her, starting the truck. “Now tell me about the last piece of my life that you dread telling me.”
    She glanced at him. “I don’t dread it.”
    He gave a gasp that sounded excited. “I just remembered something.”
    “What?”
    “That you lie a lot.” He put the truck in gear and checked his mirrors. “And that hasn’t changed.”
    But something had changed with him.
    “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
    “Like what?”
    “Like . . . I’m doing things wrong.”
    “Not wrong just . . . different.”
    “How so?” He got to the speed limit as fast as ever.
    “I think you might be nicer.” She watched the sun-shiny, old timey town, passing through her window.
    “I wasn’t nice before? That doesn’t feel true.”
    “Well, you weren’t not nice you were just . . . you told the truth all the time.”
    “And that’s cruel and mean?”
    “It can be, but with you it was just who you were.” She eyed him briefly.
    “I still am that person. Individual.” He sounded a little unsure about what to refer to himself as.
    “Maybe it’s just that you learned everything so much faster and it’s all so odd for me to process.”
    “Yes. I can understand that.”
    “See, that, that’s what I mean. You’re . . . more . . . compassionate with me.”
    “Well that’s a good thing I’d think?”
    Isadore propped her booted foot on the dash. “I think maybe you remembered nuances and mannerisms you developed. Or . . . or maybe you have more of me in you this time around since you remembered me. I think you may have retained some of the repetitive skills one picks up along the way. You just seem . . . more comfortable.”
    “I do feel comfortable, if one can be that in general. And you can tell me about how I lost my memory over breakfast.”
    A knot formed in her stomach at the idea. “Okay,” she said lightly.
    “You don’t like that.”
    It was an observation. She didn’t like that his perception of her hadn’t lessened one bit. “I just . . . no, I don’t like it.”
    “Wow. You told the truth. Now if you can tell me why you don’t like it, I’ll really be impressed.”
    “It’s not that bad.” Ruin was quiet and Isadore glanced at him. “Oh please, stop being such a damn judge.”
    “One day you’ll learn to tell the truth and nothing but the truth.”
    “So help me God,” she muttered. “Oh, I meant to ask, how did you enjoy the Bible?”
    He glanced at her several times. “Why do you ask that?”
    “Because the first three times around, you didn’t understand it.”
    He quirked his lip a little. “Well make that four times around. There’s a lot in it that I understand but don’t understand.”
    “Some people call those mysteries, others conundrums. And yet others, lies. Take a right here.”
    Isadore watched the muscles in his tanned arms flex as he did. He looked edible in blue jeans and white T-shirt. He nodded a little, “I would agree with all three of those assertions at various instances.”
    “And are you any closer to understanding what love is?”
    “Love?” he regarded her again, a smile hinting at his mouth. “You say that like a test. Did I have a problem with it before?”
    “I think you did.”
    “Did I think I did?”
    “No, you didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a problem with it.”
    “Or that I did.”
    She chuckled a little. “No, you did.”
    “According to you.” He angled a brief look at her.
    “According to the meaning of love.”
    “Which is?”
    “Which is something I’m not going to tell you because it’s something you need to learn yourself and you haven’t.”
    “Ah.”
    Anger pricked her and she looked at him. “Ah? What does that