"I wanted to be able to take care of my Dad, and have a little left over to be able to paint. I wont ever get used to the extravagance of this place. I love it, but that's because of the people, not because of the riches." His words were still sinking in. But this was as much a stalling tactic as anything else.
Had he really just said he loved her? Feyre wasn't sure how to process that. How to respond to it. She hadn't even considered... But all her time, when it wasn't spent painting, was spent with him. To the point that she wasn't sure which apartment they lived in anymore.