Disclaimer: The Pretender isn't mine.
There are times that a sense of unease creeps up on him, and he can't seem to shake it. It always comes unexpectedly. If there is a pattern to it, it isn't one that he can figure out. It's plaguing him now, and he can't sleep at all. He suspects it is because he has never done anything like this before. He has always prided himself on his integrity, and he's walking some gray line where he isn't sure where he stands anymore. Sometimes he wonders if what he is doing qualifies as lying. If it does, it isn't in a traditional sense of the word. He hasn't deliberately told her anything that was untrue, but he hasn't chosen to tell her some things either. He hasn't mentioned that he had heard about her before they met. He hasn't told her that they have a friend in common. He hasn't informed her of how much it bothers him that she changes the subject whenever he tries to talk to her about what she does for a living. He most definitely hasn't mentioned the talk he had with her father. (It's the newest addition, and it's the only thing on the list that he is absolutely sure should never be spoken of between them.) It bothers him that they have all these secrets between them. He used to have Catholic friends who had a phrase for that. What was it? Lying by omission? Is that what he's been doing all along?
He has reasons for all those things he doesn't say, of course. He didn't say anything when he first met her in person because (let's face it) it sounded rather stalkerish. That's not what he was doing, naturally, but there are no good words for explaining it out loud when you try to find them. You try it. See if you don't sound slightly deranged (or at least a little creepy). If you don't say anything at the start, there isn't really a good time to say anything later. The whole not saying just kind of hangs over you. He couldn't even use that sort of blind date that wasn't explanation. First, because that wasn't really what it was. Second, because he can't mention Jarod. That wasn't his call. That was Jarod's. He told him never to mention his name. It was an awkward conversation filled with half muttered comments about friends who didn't get along any more. He had wondered why a friend who wasn't a friend any longer would know all the things that he knew, but he hadn't asked. It was the first time in knowing Jarod that he had felt like Jarod wasn't being honest with him. But it was Jarod, and he knew Jarod, and Jarod must have his reasons. He sort of understood that now that he was in a similar situation. Although, he still wondered if that should have been a sign that he was getting into something that he wasn't prepared for.
Most of the time, he remembers to keep his mouth shut about her job. He's slipped here or there because it's frustrating. She, however, has made it clear that he can't understand what the problem is. He bites down the response that, of course, he can't understand what she won't explain to him. It's hard, but he does it. He can see how much the topic pains her, and he doesn't want to be the reason for that. It's a moot point now anyway that she has chosen to leave whatever it was that was holding her to the place that contributed to her unhappiness. He doesn't like to think of it as her leaving it for him because that makes her sound like some sort of damsel in distress, and if there is anything that she isn't, it is that. He knows better because he restores old houses. That's the trick to restoration. You don't start over. You don't create something from scratch. You take what is already there (maybe hidden), and you bring it to the surface. That's how he prefers to think of himself – catalyst rather than savior.
Her dad, well, that's another thing altogether. There will never be any reason for her to know that her father tried to buy him off. Knowing that wouldn't end well for anyone. He knows it's been hard enough on her choosing to leave. It has strained their relationship, and that knowledge might break it. He doesn't want that (no matter how destructive he suspects that her family may be). She loves her father. He's important to her, and he isn't going to be the one that comes between them.
It bothers him – this bizarre adherence to this place as a family. The tension is enormous almost like he's watching some bad mafia movie, and he had wondered when he wasn't sure that she would come with him if she would actually be able to make the break, and if she did, whether that place would continue to haunt her. When she chose, he swept those thoughts away. It was ridiculous really to make that type of connection in his head. Mafia, indeed. She just has a particular, slightly overbearing father. It was problematic but hardly dangerous. Is it awful that he hasn't completely shaken the impression?
The thing is that none of it seems to matter when he catches her in an unguarded moment. There are those times when she really, truly smiles and his heart jumps a little in his chest. He'll have to tell her that sometime just to watch her eyes roll at how clichéd and cheesy he sounds. When she laughs, all he can manage to think of is how much he wants to be the one that makes her sound like that again (not just a little bit because the sound sounds so underused). She's worth the confusion. She's worth the sleepless early morning he's having multiplied to infinity. He'll have to find a way to tell her that because that is the type of thing that shouldn't remain unspoken.
What does it matter how they met? What does it matter who they both know? Her old job? Her father? None of that is as important as the two of them together. There is a sound outside that flashes across the back of his mind as distinctly out of place. Parker doesn't even twitch (which is unusual since she is usually such a light sleeper). He'll go check it out. Then, when she wakes up, they will talk about this new phase of their life that they are embarking on.