“Good. Now that you no longer look like a starving wet dog, we can get to know each other. My name is Luc and, as I said, this is my lighthouse. And you are?”
“Well, Leal, tell me something about yourself.”
“I’m a hard worker.”
“No doubt you are, but I already knew that from the strength in your shoulders and the roughness of your hands,” he said, with a bemused grin.
“Tell me something I cannot see.”
Leal rubbed his hands together, looked up to the ceiling and back down to Luc.
What should I say?
There was really only one thing on his mind and it bubbled over into his words now, taking Leal by surprise.
“I’ve been walking for two weeks, because the woman I love threw me out.”
Love. The word twisted in his gut. Did he love Victoire?
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