Page 15 of Through You
“Does it bother you that you’re my only friend?”
She placed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled.
“No, it doesn’t bother me.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a bit, then Claudia started to hum a song.
“I know your dream,” I told her.
She moved her feet through the water.
“Hmm, tell me more . . .”
“Well, you love singing. Wouldn’t you want to be a famous singer one day?”
She looked down, her gaze lost in the crystal clear water.
“That would be—”
“What are you scared of? Admitting the truth won’t hurt anyone.”
She bit her lip and looked at me. The glint in her eyes gave her away.
“Yeah, that could be my dream. But I’ll deny it if you ever tell a soul.” She sighed before she smiled. “I would love to be a singer.”
Watching Claudia now, as she works and sings in the kitchen, I wonder if she kept that dream.Ah, what business is it of mine?
I clear my throat. She freezes on the spot, then gives me a quick glance and places the spoon inside the dishwasher. I’m surprised by the annoyed expression I see on her face when she turns around. I thought she would be embarrassed. Quite the contrary; she looks irritated. I suppose she has every right to be.
“Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” I’m surprised by how cold her voice sounds.
She isn’t irritated. She’s furious.
Her body language tells me that she’s one word away from exploding into a barrage of curses directed at me.
This is textbook Claudia; I have not intimidated her in the least. She will obey and bite her tongue because she has to in order to keep her job, not because she’s afraid of me—which doesn’t surprise me in the least. Even my brothers are a little terrified of me, but not her, never her.
“I’d like a cup of tea,” I reply, and take a seat at the kitchen table. She gives me a cold-eyed stare that almost makes me put my head down. “Please,” I finish my request, clearing my throat.
She sighs and prepares the tea in silence while I watch. Her red hair is pulled into a long braid that starts at the crown of her head and falls down her back. Although I can only see her side profile, the hairstyle perfectly emphasizes her features. She rubs her shoulder and grimaces slightly, looking tired. It appears she’s had a long day. That makes two of us.
I flash back to what happened the other day, and the feeling of remorse resurfaces. I’m not usually one to experience regret, so the unpleasant feeling is uncomfortable.
Distractedly, I glide my finger along the edge of the table. A cup of tea appears. I look up to see her standing in front of me.
Her icy stare is unsettling.
“Your tea, sir.” There isn’t a shred of respect in her tone, only disgust.
“Thank you.”
She turns around and carries on with her work.
I take a sip. I try to enjoy my tea but the awareness that I did something terrible is stuck in the back of my mind. She must feel my stare on her, because she turns to face me. She puts a hand on her cocked hip.
“If you’re going to apologize, you can do it now.”
It’s the first time she’s spoken to me in a familiar way, and surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me. She must read the confusion in my face because her expression immediately changes. She seems to have realized that she blurted out what she was thinking.
