Page 36 of Fatal Sloth

His shirt carries a fragrance so intoxicating that I barely notice when he takes my hand again, leading us toward the table. It's a blend of woodsy amber undertones and a hint of expensive cologne, wrapping around me like a blanket.

The second we take our seats, the aroma of garlic fills the air, making my mouth water. My stomach, apparently with a mind of its own, growls loudly enough to capture both Sebastiano's and Marie’s attention.

Marie chuckles softly before placing a piece of garlic-grilled chicken with pesto zucchini ribbons on my plate. “Eat up, Mia Cara,” Marie says warmly.

Sebastiano wastes no time and digs in eagerly. After a few bites, I set my fork down, realizing I've eaten enough.

“Another hunger strike?” he asks, peering up at me.

“It’s not a hunger strike. I'm full,” I protest.

He puts his fork down, his elbows on the table, and folds his hands together. “You’re telling me that after two bites, you’re full? Even after your stomach was practically screaming just a few minutes ago?” he asks.

“It’s all I should have,” I murmur more to myself than to him.

Sebastiano scoots his chair out to turn toward me, then pulls my chair so I am directly between his legs. “What aren't you telling me?” he asks, his eyes not leaving mine. "And don't lie to me,” he adds.

I feel more exposed than I can handle, so I look down, no longer able to hold his gaze.

Memories of the past begin to flood my mind. I recall the times when Karen would report to my dad that I was gaining weight and needed to be "taught a lesson." It meant days of starvation, surviving on mere scraps of food. Those scraps weren't about nourishment; they were about control, about asserting dominance over me, making sure I knew my place in their world.

Karen's twisted mind would find pleasure in leaving a candy bar next to my bed, knowing I hadn't eaten in days. It was her cruel game, a manipulation tactic to show me she could turn my father against me. She'd then run to dad, accusing me of sneaking junk food, making me out as the disobedient one. Though I know this situation is different, the memories still sting, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

Karen's words would replay in my mind: "You're not hungry. You're just bored." It was a mantra she drilled into me, her twisted way to justify her cruelty. A few bites, she'd say, were enough to lessen the hunger pains.

“Where’d you go?” Sebastiano asks, pulling me back from my reverie. I find his gaze fixed on mine, a hint of concern in his eyes. "I'm right here," I assure him, but he's not convinced. "You drifted off somewhere," he says, tapping my forehead lightly.

I know he won't let it slide, so I decide to open up a little. "Food wasn't exactly a given in my dad's house," I begin.

“Like you didn’t have money for food?” he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“He always had the money. It just wasn’t a luxury afforded to me,” I reply, hesitating on how much to reveal.

"What the hell did you say?" he interrupts, his tone sharp with anger. Sensing his rising tension, I try to downplay it. "It's nothing... Nothing to worry about," I say with a small smile, hoping to diffuse the situation.

His fists ball on his lap, and the fury in his gaze makes me cringe. “Did he starve you? Is this why you barely eat?” he asks, his tone taking on a sinister edge.

“No, not like that,” I lie.

“So then tell me,” he demands, and I shrink back from him. His scrutiny feels unrelenting, overwhelming.

“It's nothing,” I tell him, desperation creeping into my voice. “Really,” I continue, pleading for him to understand.

“Fine, if you won't tell, then why the hell should I care? It’s not like you’ll be here long enough for it to be my problem,” he yells back at me, his words hitting me like a punch to the stomach. He stands up abruptly and marches off, leaving me sitting here dumbfounded.

When I hear the front door slam shut, I realize he's left, and I feel a surge of panic, yet I feel like I can breathe again. I quickly run upstairs, seeking solace in the shower, hoping to wash away the conflict of emotions swirling inside me.

Today, I've had "Slide" by the Goo Goo Dolls playing on repeat. It's been stuck in my head all day. With the evening approaching, I figure it's time for a shower before dinner, even though I haven't really exerted myself dancing. It's just something to do to pass the time while being cooped up all day.

It's been almost a week since our argument, and I've barely seen Sebastiano since. I'm still sorting through the messiness of it all, wondering how things got so out of hand. It's moments like these that make me understand why my dad always told me to keep quiet—it seems like no one really cares anyway.

My feelings for Sebastiano are murky at best, but I'm more bothered by how quickly everything fell apart between us and how he left so abruptly.

When I'm not in the gym, I find myself gravitating towards Marie. She's the only person I really talk to around here. Occasionally, Nico drops by, and I get a few random texts from Cameron. Marie seems to feel sorry for me every time I sit alone at the dinner table. She won’t outright say it, but her eyes show what her mouth won't. Roman continues to cook as if we're expecting a crowd, not just one lonely diner in the dining room. I've even asked him to scale back or offer the leftover food to the guards around the house, but he insists on cooking a feast every night.

The song fades out as I finish my last spin, lost in my thoughts. I bend down to grab my phone and water when, suddenly, the door bursts open.

I'm not sure if Sebastiano was expecting to find me here or not, judging by the confusion on his face. "Hi," I offer, feeling awkward as soon as the words leave my lips.

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