Page 55 of Alpha Wolf's Nanny
She poured herself a cup instead, though she wasn’t thirsty. The coffee was too hot, bitter on her tongue, but she forced herself to swallow.
The silence between them stretched until it frayed her nerves raw. She didn’t know what she was waiting for. Some acknowledgement, perhaps, some explanation, anything that might tell her she hadn’t made the whole thing up. That the night they shared had meant something. That moment in the woods, when he called her beautiful, had been real.
But still he said nothing.
The clock ticked on. The sun poured through the windows. She stood, scraping her chair back, and busied herself making toast for the boys. She could hear them now, clatteringaround upstairs. A hollow sort of ache settled in her chest, like grief for something that hadn’t even had a chance to begin.
She didn’t cry. She was too used to disappointment to cry over it.
The boys came thundering in minutes later, tumbling to the table and accepting plates of toast with delight and thanks, yelling over each other to her, telling her about their plans for the day.
Cassie smiled. For them, she could always smile.
If they noticed any tension between her and Felix, they didn’t mention it, probably too focused on scarfing down their food in record time. Once they were done, she ushered them off to go and get dressed and began clearing the table. Felix remained seated at the kitchen table, unreadable as ever, while she flitted around the room helping the boys get packed for school. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t.
She felt him, though, like static in the air. His presence was impossible to ignore, even when he said nothing. Especially when he said nothing.
When Logan knocked over his juice, Felix moved to grab a cloth from the counter, but Cassie was already there, dabbing quickly at the mess with a forced smile on her lips.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said brightly, though her voice caught at the end, “happens every morning, doesn’t it, Logan?”
“Wasn’t my fault,” Logan muttered, “Danny elbowed me.”
“I didn’t touch you!” Danny snapped.
“Alright, alright,” Cassie cut in, still not looking at Felix, “it’s all good. No one’s in trouble. Go grab your lunchboxes and put your shoes on. Bus’ll be here soon.”
The boys scampered off, leaving her alone with Felix once more. Silence descended again, thick and heavy.
She turned her back to him, rinsing the cloth in the sink even though it was already clean.
“I’m taking the boys to the woods again this afternoon,” she said finally. Her voice was low, stiff. “They want to build a lookout post.”
“Fine,” Felix said.
Just that. Nothing more. She had hoped he might ask to come with them. But no.
Cassie bit the inside of her cheek until it hurt.
When the bus arrived, she helped the boys bundle out the door with their backpacks bouncing behind them, waving as they ran to join the cluster of other children. As soon as the bus pulled away, she stood in the doorway a moment longer than necessary, arms crossed over her chest, gaze fixed on the horizon.
She felt hollow. Brittle.
With a sigh, she went back inside, climbed the stairs, and made her way into her bathroom. It was spacious, clean, and quiet.
Too quiet.
The sound of the water masked her sniffle as she turned the shower on and peeled her clothes away. She stepped under the stream, letting it scald her skin. She scrubbed harder than she needed to, as if she could scrub away the shame blooming under her ribs. The humiliation. The ache.
He was avoiding her. There was no denying it now. Not even pretending to be polite.
And she didn’t know why.
Had she done something wrong? Been too forward? Asked too much of him? Had she been foolish to think that the night in the woods would have changed anything between them?
She leaned her head against the cool tile and shut her eyes.
Of course she had been foolish.
