Page 7 of Rust

Was this normal? For a couple as young as us to have completely run out of things to talk about? Ugh—there was that awful feeling of dread in the pit of my belly again.

My phone, set on silent, vibrated in my clutch. Normally, I wouldn’t look at my phone during a special dinner, but it’s not like we had anything to talk about anyway, so I fetched it from my clutch. It was a text message from my dad, wondering,“What’s your boyfriend’s full name?”

I tapped out a reply: “Cody Engels. Why, Dad? Are you conducting a background search on him?”

While I waited for his reply, I glanced up at Cody. Like a balloon with a leak, he slowly deflated, his shoulders sinking by the second. He looked miserable.

“You can’t even help yourself, can you?”

I recoiled. “What’s thatsupposed to mean?”

“You’re always—” He cut himself off and rubbed his eyes. “Nevermind. Just forget it.”

My phone vibrated again, but this time, I didn’t check it.

* * *

It didn’t matter that I left my cell phone in my clutch for the rest of dinner; the damage was already done. We ate in near total silence, the vibe awkward and tense, the only sound between us the scraping and clanking of flatware on ceramic.

How did things get to this point?

I didn’t know, but I was sure it was my fault. I felt so awful about ruining Cody’s special treat that, when the server took our plates away and announced he’d return with our bill, I excused myself to the restroom.

On the way to the restroom, I made a quick detour to the wait station. I nabbed our server and told him to charge the bill to my card. I left a generous tip and signed the bill on the spot. The server pointed me in the direction of the restroom and wished me a good night.

A few minutes later, I made my way back to our table. Cody sat anxiously, his eyes searching the restaurant floor like a hawk.

“Ready?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t paid yet,” Cody said. “I don’t know where our waiter went, but he’s taking forever.”

I gestured for the exit. “C’mon, let’s go.”

He cocked his head at me. “Without paying? Are you crazy?”

“I paid the bill already,” I muttered.

“You did?Why?”

“Because I ruined dinner and you shouldn’t have to pay for it.”

Cody groaned. “Damn it, Izzy. Itoldyou, this was supposed to be my treat.”

“But you work so hard for your money. I have more money than I even know what to do with. Why don’t you let me pay for it?”

“BecausemaybeI don’t want my girlfriend to make tons of money on OnlyFans?”

My throat went bone dry in an instant.

Whoa, what?I thought.

“Maybe I don’t like strange men ogling pictures of you in your panties,” he continued, the truth finally spilling out of him, “and constantly messaging you dirty shit about how bad they want to fuck you?”

The conversations at the tables around us died as heads turned to stare.

“Do we have to do this right now?” I asked, keenly aware of all the prying eyes around us.

“What’s the alternative, Izzy? Never talk about it at all? How’s that working out for you?”

---