Page 6 of Silent Cravings

“It was pretty crowded in there,” I offered. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had known this girl since I first met Colton and Noah in high school. Almost fifteen years. Yet I couldn’t get my brain and my mouth working together. Not tonight.

It was crazy how a happy announcement could unlock a door that had been closed for a decade. “You know me. Crowded spaces aren’t a problem. They’re sort of my bread and butter.” Slapping a palm to her forehead, she pulled her phone from her sweatshirt pocket and typed furiously.

“What is it this time?” I asked, spearing a piece of spicy chicken.

“I need to make finding the venue my number one priority,” she muttered while typing. “This is going to be a real bitch.”

Offer up one of the country clubs, you idiot.But that would mean working side by side through this, and if tonight were anything to go by, that would be the last thing she’d want.

“You’ll make it work,” I predicted around a mouthful of fried rice, deciding it for the best to keep quiet. “You always do.” I wasn’t all that hungry, but the food was as good as I’d remembered.

Instinct told me not to leave her alone tonight. Not untilshe went to bed anyway. It was the least I could do after fucking up spectacularly back in the day.

“I guess it’s for the best.” I held the phone close to my ear, turning my back on the guys as we waited in line for breakfast in the dining hall three weeks into my first semester. “I mean, this wasn’t the right time for either of us, you know?”

Stupid asshole.She was so quiet for so long I thought she’d hung up. No, the call was still active, which meant she was there. She just didn’t want to speak to me.

“Right?” I prompted.

“Yeah. You’re right.” She sounded like a ghost—empty. How was a girl supposed to sound the morning after she had a miscarriage? “I’ll let you go. You sound busy.”

I should have left the fucking dining hall. I should have gotten in the car and driven out to her. I should’ve done a lot of things. But I was eighteen, stupid, and just found out I wasn’t going to be a father.

The shitty thing was, I ate breakfast feeling better than I had in weeks, ever since Valentina told me about the baby the weekend before I was due to move to Cambridge.

I wouldn’t know where to begin apologizing now. Would it be trite if I brought it up? It was the elephant in the room, that much was obvious. Or was I telling myself that? Was it guilt compelling me to torture myself this way?

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.” She pushed her food away after picking at it halfheartedly, still more interested in her phone. “I’m not really hungry.”

“You just hate the idea of anyone trying to take care of you.”

“Right…” she sighed, “… because you know me so well.”

I did. I might not have shown it outwardly, but I paid attention. I always had. From the day we met when Colton introduced me to his friends and family at school, there wassomething about her that drew me in. “I’m Valentina Miller, and anybody with the balls to be friends with my idiot cousin is worth knowing.” That snarky, smirking first impression was all it took for her to fascinate me.

She went through the motions of packing up what was left while I continued picking at my chicken. She may as well have been miles away with layers of barbed wire wrapped around her. Everything about her body language told me to steer clear—the hunched shoulders, tight jaw, not to mention the way she refused to look at me when I tried to catch her eye.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked when she finished cleaning up after herself.

I would’ve been safer lighting a match in a gas-filled room. She exploded in a flurry of waving hands which she then slammed onto the counter. “Why does anything have to be the matter, for fuck’s sake? Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus fuck, Valentina. Is it that time of the month or something?”

Her face bloomed red-bloody murder. “You’re the one who insisted on coming here when I didn’t want to be around people!”

“How was I supposed to know you didn’t wanna be around people?”

“Because I told you I just wanted to go home, genius.” She tapped the side of her head while giving me a dirty look before turning her back and facing the sink.

I could almost feel the heat coming off her, even with the countertop between us. Her shoulders rose and fell with each ragged breath she took. She was struggling. All I wanted was to reach out, but what good would it do? If I could find the words, what would I say that would change adamn thing? And how fucking empty would it sound after all these years?

When I thought about it, I realized I couldn’t remember a single time my father had ever apologized for anything, and he’d had more than enough reason to. It was beneath him, and like me, he had not been raised to do it.

A pathetic excuse. I knew it in my bones as I got up from my stool and rounded the counter separating the two rooms. Was I taking my life in my hands, approaching a rabid animal who might bite? Maybe. But I knew a lot of this had to do with me. There was no way it didn’t. The least I could do was try to offer what awkward comfort I could, no matter if I felt like an inept fuck approaching her from behind, laying gentle hands on her shoulders.

“You don’t have to do that,” she muttered, her head hanging low.

Was she sniffling?

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