Page 69 of True Honey
“Your sadness.” Silas watched me, his chest rising and falling slowly. “Auggie sees it better than anyone and he spends a lot of time tip-toeing around it because it’s afraid to hurt your feelings more.”
“Wow, I’m glad this dinner turned into you judging how I raise my kid. What happened to throwing rocks in glass houses?” I went to slip off the stool and Silas grabbed my arm. “Let go,” I warned.
“I’m not judging you,” he said, not loosening the gentle grip he had on me. “I’m just saying he’s protective of you, he’s the first to stand up for you.”
“He’s my kid, he shouldn’t be doing any of that,” the words were tight and uneven coming out of me. I hated this, watching a good day turn sour.
“When he told me about what your ex used to do… It took everything in me not to say some horrible shit or pry into your life, Drew. I was ready to use a thirteen-year-old just for a little more information but I realized that he isn’t the person I should be asking.” Silas said. “It’s not his responsibility to take care of you, even if he believes it is. Even if that’s not how you raised him.”
“This all sounds pretty condemning, Silas.”
“From what I gather he’s been raised to be kind, protective and helpful. To never make more work for anyone, to always be the first to offer a hand and to be polite even when someone isn’t treating you with respect. And there’s nothing wrong with any of that, but it’s not Auggie. He’s just a kid, he’s doing what he’s always done. It’s what he knows. But it’s not him, all of those things. They’reyou.”
“Oh so this is more therapy, the rage room was just the first hurdle?” I sneered at him, hating how his thumb brushed over my arm and how easily I was distracted by the calming feeling it brought on. I was putting up walls faster than he could tear them down just praying that he didn’t get to the route of the problem.
Figure yourself out Drew.
“You wear this mask, you never show anyone who you really are and at first I thought it might be because you were protecting yourself but it’s not that,” Silas said and my chest tightened. “It’s because you don’t know who you are.”
I huffed out a frustrated laugh just to keep from crying. Why was it when I felt this way, crying was the only response my body came up with?
“I do know who I am and who are you to assume I don’t?” I tried to fight back. "My fake fiance, who’s using a woman to trick his dying grandfather into signing over his shares to his fortune?” I said harshly, instantly feeling like a piece of shit knowing that it was probably too far. “Who areyou, Silas?” I countered. “Because from where I’m standing you don’t even know.”
His grip finally faltered and his eyes softened. “I deserved that,” he nodded, “maybe not the dying grandfather part but the rest.”
“I’m sorry,” I sighed. I didn’t want to be some frightened, depressed ball of anxiety. I had been formed into this over the years.
“You’re right. I don’t know who I am outside of the ‘How can I help’ version of myself. And maybe I’m terrified that if I don’t get these shares it makes it hard to be that guy for everyone. Who would I be without that money? I can’t fund the team, I can’t keep harbor running, I can’t donate to people who need it. All that fortune will go into my corrupt fathers pockets where he can ruin more lives and create more kids like Josh.”
His frustration poured out, “and if he does I wouldn’t even have the ability to help them down the road.”
My brows knitted together tightly and I leaned over the counter, suddenly aware of how cracked his armor was. Silas thrived on being everyone’s white knight but he genuinely believed that’s all he was to them. A problem solver with an endless bank account.
I set aside my frustration because Silas had never once given a reason to be treated like that and I could recognize that lashing out wasn’t going to solve anything. What hurt was knowing that’s how others saw me: small, reserved, easy to be around because I never asked for much.
“You’re more than that.” The words came out so softly that I wasn’t even sure he had heard them but he looked up at me again, brows crumbled together and jaw screwed shut. “You are.”
“You’re doing it again,” his voice was smooth, almost cautious. “You make yourself small to avoid the conflict.”
“I meant that,” I argued back. He wasn’t just his money and it was frustrating that he had been conditioned to believe that about himself.
“I know you did,” he responded, “but you said it because you were scared of the argument, you were backing down because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings but what about yours?”
“You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, Silas.” I admitted and the confession stung at the corners of my eyes.
“You can get mad, I won’t…” he paused, “you can yell and scream at me and I will never lay a hand on you.” The words came out with conviction and Bradley never had but I appreciated the tone in Silas’s voice when he said it.
I rounded the island with shaky hands and a racing heart.
“I know,” I said to him as he turned to face me. It was so simple, but honest and needed to be said. For him and for myself to hear it. “For the record, I’ve never been…hit.”
“Auggie wouldn’t tell me,” he said, sounding upset. “I shouldn’t have asked but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know.”
I took a deep breath as his hand came up and his knuckle grazed my tight jaw, “I don’t mean to, but I also don’t know how to stop it,” I confessed, “it’s just easy to get small, familiar.”
Silas studied my face, wanting to say something but clearly conflicted on how he should word himself to avoid restarting the argument that had sparked suddenly. It was odd because even though we had both contributed I didn’t feel like I was being backed into a corner. Fights with Bradley had always felt me feeling like I didn’t have an out. Like I needed to plan an exit strategy for every little mistake I made.
Meanwhile, Silas was sitting here staring at my lips like he wanted to kiss me but his face was twisted painfully with deeper intentions.
