Page 116 of Ugly Truths
As if on cue, a waiter approaches us. “Mr. Wells, welcome back,” he says with a genuine smile.
“Jacob, it’s good to see you. How have you been?” Silas replies.
It shouldn’t surprise me that Silas remembered this waiter’s name, but seeing him act so painfully human still throws me for a loop.
Jacob, probably in his early twenties, brightens. “I'm hanging in there. Just counting the days till I'm out of Fluid Dynamics. It's a killer this semester.”
Silas chuckles. “I can imagine. Hang in there, you're halfway through,” he encourages before turning slightly to look at me, “This is my girlfriend, Elena.”
His words carry across the patio with a weight I'm unprepared for. I have to clamp down on my outward shock, and my ears burn. Jacob turns his smile towards me with a nod. “Nice to meet you, Elena.”
Recovering quickly, I return the gesture. “It's nice to meet you, too.”
Silas asks for the bottle of wine he mentioned previously. Jacob promises to return with it in a moment. As he walks away, I release a long, quiet breath in an attempt to settle the flutter of nerves in my stomach.
“Hey.”
I jump at the closeness of Silas’s voice. His fingers pause on my leg, prompting me to turn my face back toward his. “What’s wrong?”
My next inhale catches in my lungs while I search for the right words. “This is a little overwhelming.”
He offers me a small, understanding smile. “You’re doing great.”
Not long after, Jacob returns carrying the bottle of Barolo. He presents it to Silas with practiced ease. Silas nods, and Jacob proceeds to open it, carefully pouring the red liquid into a decanter.
Jacob expertly fills two glasses, presenting one to Silas for approval. After a contemplative sip, Silas gives another appreciative nod. As Jacob sets down a glass in front of me, Silas leans closer. His proximity under Jacob's watchful eyes causes a warm flush to spread across my cheeks.
“Are you okay with me ordering the carpaccio?” he murmurs, and I barely manage a nod before he orders.
Jacob bows his head in acknowledgment and heads back into the restaurant. Silas lifts his glass towards me, a soft smile playing on his lips. We clink them together in a quiet toast.
He shifts closer again, breath warm against my ear, “You look so goddamn beautiful.”
My heart swells and deflates just as quickly. For a moment, I forgot that this isn’t just a date. It's another maneuver in the endless game I've been forced to play for years.
I’m not sure there will ever be a time when there isn’t some small part of me that wonders if he will miss this if life ever becomes normal. Will I lose all my appeal when we’re just two people existing together? When all the adrenaline and drama fades, will he still treat me this way in public, even if it’s not to purposefully flaunt our relationship?
Despite the delicious wine and Silas’s warm eyes on me, bitterness lingers at the back of my throat.
Feeling a little desperate to break the spell he has me under, I ask softly, “Laying it on a little thick, aren't we?”
Silas finishes his own sip with a new sharpness in his gaze.
“What does that mean?”
Under his questioning stare, I want to take the impulsive words back. My neck heats as I shrug, averting my eyes back to the table. Silas, however, tenses his hand on my calf. Knowing he isn’t going to let the comment slide, I reluctantly look back up at him.
His eyes search my face. “I miss that smart mouth of yours quite a bit,” he admits, “I’d like to hear it now.”
I drum my nails on the tabletop, biting the inside of my lip.Why can't I just enjoy this for what it is?
Feeling defeated, I answer, “You don’t need to do all of this.”
Confusion washes over his face. “All of what?”
My eyes dart around the patio. Most people have returned to their own meals, though several still stare. Filled with a shameful awareness, I elaborate quietly, “I appreciate your attention, but just being here together has done what you wanted it to. Your plan worked.”
The intensity of his gaze is unsettling. He leans back in his seat, the hand on my leg falling away. I struggle not to let the loss of his warmth show on my face.
