Page 81 of Checks & Bonds

Iwalked beside Henry, the late morning air heavy with unsaid words. Each step felt like a slow march to an unknown fate. My mind spun with questions, regrets, and a thousand half-formed thoughts. I kept glancing at him from the corner of my eye, searching for any sign that he might break this unbearable silence.

His face remained a stone mask, jaw clenched tight. The moonlight cast sharp shadows across his features, making him look even more distant and unreachable. I wished he would yell at me, accuse me of something, anything to shatter this oppressive quiet.

We reached his car, and he opened the door for me without a word. I hesitated for a moment, hoping he'd say something—anything—that might give me a clue about what he was thinking. But he simply waited, eyes fixed on some distant point beyond my shoulder.

I slid into the passenger seat, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the seatbelt. He got in on his side and started theengine. The hum of the car filled the void between us, but it did nothing to ease the tension.

"Henry," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "Can we talk about?—"

He cut me off with a sharp glance, eyes burning with unspoken fury. But still, he said nothing.

The silence grew thicker, suffocating. My mind screamed for him to lash out, to give me something tangible to hold on to. Anything was better than this torturous quiet.

But he didn't move. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. The car idled in the parking lot, a beast of metal and silence.

My eyes filled with water, blurring the dashboard in front of me. I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. The memory of my mother’s voice echoed in my mind. Did I ruin this? Was she right? Had I destroyed everything with Henry?

I glanced down at my hand resting on my lap. My knuckles were already swollen from where I punched Dan. The skin was an angry red, throbbing with each beat of my heart. He deserved it, though. His smug face and those slimy words he spewed—I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

The sting in my hand was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. The silence between Henry and me was louder than any argument we could have had. I wanted to reach out, to touch his arm, but I knew it would be pointless. He was locked away somewhere deep inside himself, and I didn’t have the key.

"Henry," I tried again, my voice cracking. "Please... can we talk?"

His eyes flickered toward me for a split second before returning to the windshield. His jaw tightened even more, if that was possible.

The tears spilled over despite my efforts to keep them at bay. I turned away from him, pressing my forehead against the coolglass of the window. The world outside seemed so far away, a distant place where problems like ours didn’t exist.

I felt like I was drowning in a sea of regrets and unanswered questions. How had we ended up here? How had everything gone so wrong so fast?

My hand fell into my lap again, fingers curling into a fist around the pain.

"I'm going to kill him," Henry said quietly, his voice a dangerous calm that sent chills down my spine.

"You can't—" I started, but he cut me off.

"You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do." His words snapped through the air like a whip. He let out a slow breath, trying to reign in his fury. "When Kennedy did that to my sister, I was ready to kill him too. It affected her inheritance. My uncle was ready to strip the team from her. Luckily, Kennedy came to his senses, but… I doubt Dan is going to make this right. Which means I have an obligation to. And even so, the internet is forever. And that's something they're both going to have to live with."

His words were like a slap to my face, the sting of them sharper than anything physical. The gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Is this going to affect…" My voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"What?" His eyes narrowed as he turned toward me.

"My mother says you don't want to get married," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "That this scandal ruined everything."

"And you want to be sure of that?" He sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and something else—something darker. "Tell me, Freya, did you plan for this? Was this done on purpose?"

The accusation hung in the air between us like a noxious cloud. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to process what he had just said. Did he really think I would sabotage us?

"Plan for this? Are you serious?" I felt anger rising within me, battling the hurt and confusion. "Why would I want to ruin everything between us?"

"Why indeed," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I clenched my fists in frustration. The pain in my knuckles seemed insignificant compared to the emotional turmoil inside me. "You think I wanted those pictures out there? That I wanted this mess?"

He looked away, his jaw tightening again. Silence stretched between us once more, thick and suffocating.

I couldn't stand it anymore. "Henry," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "We need to talk about this, really talk."

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