Page 34 of Unbreak Me

The next day, I asked him if he’d like to swim with me in the pond. I noticed that my suggestion somehow affected him in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He hesitated and even blushed a little.

"No, I’m not really in the mood for it yet. Maybe next week?"

Was it about being almost naked next to each other? Suspecting that, I simply nodded, choosing not to push it. My strategy was to give him space, to let him feel comfortable enough to take the initiative when he was ready.

"If you don’t mind, I’d still like to go for a swim," I said. "It’s kind of a habit of mine to use the pond at least once a week, usually more. Since I spent so much money building it, I feel like I have to justify the expense by actually using it." I chuckled and spread my arms helplessly.

He glanced at me—a quick, uncertain look—and then shrugged. "Sure, go ahead and swim."

His mood was hard to read. It felt like I was sensing him on two levels—picking up on his inner emotions, while his face told a different story. It was… confusing.

That afternoon, I left the house in just my swim trunks, with a towel slung over my shoulder. I was pretty confident in my body—working out regularly in my basement gym, and I wasn’t shy about showing off the results. Day was sitting on the terrace when he saw me, and to my surprise, he stood up and walked toward the pond with me. He didn’t say anything, so neither did I.

When we got there, he chose to sit near the shore. I laid my towel on a stone bench and walked into the water without a word. Day sat on another bench, smoking his usual cigarette, but I could feel his eyes on me.

It was a little strange, the way he was watching me so intensely but didn’t want to join in. His behavior felt contradictory, but I wasn’t going to ask him about it.

Max and Buddy followed me at first, splashing in the water, but they quickly retreated to the beach. I swam for almost forty minutes, back and forth along the length of the pond. When I finally climbed out, Day’s gaze followed me the whole time.

At one point, his eyes flicked briefly to my chest and stomach before shifting back up. He stayed silent, just puffing on his cigarette.

I wasn’t as hairy as many alphas—just a light dusting of golden hair on my chest that was barely noticeable from a distance. But for some reason, I had the distinct impression he approved of my body. Of course, that was a ridiculous read of his thoughts—I couldn’t possibly know what he was thinking.

The only odd indication was his heartbeat, which was quite elevated, perhaps more than one would expect from a person relaxing on a bench with a cigarette.

"The water’s warm, but there’s a lot of algae this year. I kept feeling it brush against my feet—it was kind of annoying," I said as I dried off.

Day cleared his throat and muttered, "As a kid, I used to be scared of swimming in ponds with algae. I always thought they were the hands of dead people trying to drag me under."

I laughed. "Yeah, you can’t let your imagination get too carried away with stuff like that. Luckily, this pond is shallow. If I wanted, I could stand and touch the bottom. So, no corpses pulling me under… not too deep anyway." I winked.

Day chuckled softly—a rare sound, but it was nice, almost melodic. Then, for just a second, his eyes flicked back to my stomach, and I noticed a faint pink blush on his cheeks. And his heart, again… pounding quite intensely!

But he didn’t say anything.

It was typical of him—avoiding longer conversations, especially when the mood lightened or there was even a hint of flirtation. He always went quiet. If the topic was more serious, I could sometimes get him to open up, but casual chatter? Not so much.

???

I had a small stone grill that I used now and then for cooking pork shoulder and zucchini. The next evening, we sat around it, watching the smoke curl up against the darkening evening sky.

Dogs and cats were with us, Milky next to Day.

I noticed Day hunching his shoulders slightly, like he was feeling the chill, so without saying anything, I went inside and grabbed an extra blanket for him.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine briefly as I wrapped the blanket around his narrow shoulders. I couldn’t help but notice how slight and delicate they were. A strange shiver ran through me.

His hair was tied back in his usual low bun, but a loose strand had escaped at the nape of his neck, brushing my hand as I adjusted the blanket. I wanted to touch it again—but didn’t dare. When I pulled back, I caught a faint hint of pink rising on his cheeks, and of course, the heartbeat picked up.

"Thanks," he murmured. "It was getting a little chilly."

"You’re probably not used to evenings like that," I said, settling back into my seat. "The cold comes in from the fields at night. It takes some time to adapt to it."

"It does," he admitted, pulling the blanket tighter. "But I wouldn’t say it’s unpleasant. It’s… fresh." After a moment of hesitation, he added, "This whole place feels so peaceful and isolated—like nothing can disturb it. It’s the kind of quiet that lets you really unwind mentally. A deeper kind of relaxation."

"That’s one of the perks of living here," I agreed, letting my gaze sweep over the hills, now just faint outlines against the deepening navy sky. "But after two years in this quiet, I’ve started to notice the downside to being so alone."

A silence settled between us. I immediately realized I might’ve touched on something uncomfortable for him, so I leaned forward to check the grill, poking at the potatoes to see if they were done.

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