Page 36 of The Sound Of Silence

Chapter Sixteen

Willow

“Becauseyoucouldruinme.”

I may have played Jesse’s words off like a joke, but the truth is, they were anything but. He rattled me.What the hell does it even mean?

It’s all I could think about on my walk to work, and I still haven’t figured it out now that I’m here. My stupid heart wants me to believe it means he feels something, like I do, but that’s insane.Right? Not to mention wrong.

It’s not that I think I have actual romantic feelings for him, but there’s a connection I can’t deny and it’s eating me alive. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

And then he had to tell me he was protecting me… God, that had me spiraling even further.

Is it possible he feels the pull between us but knows the damage it would do to Pippa’s and my relationship? Or is it something else?Jesus. What does it matter? I shouldn’t even be allowing these thoughts into my head. I need to push that shit right out of my mind. And yet, I still feel like their relationship is ending anyway. They never touch, I never catch them in quiet little moments, and they barely even smile at each other.Not to mention the separate beds.

Connection or figment of my imagination, it doesn’t matter. Itcan’tmatter. So like everything else messed up in my life, I try to force it away.

For most of the morning, I keep myself busy trying to finish the damn clasp on the necklace, while Sara runs the shop. I even start on Pippa’s chain as procrastination.

I couldn’t say how much time passes, but since my fingers hurt from the tools, I’m going to guess it’s been a while.

When I’m almost at the point of giving up, Sara’s voice breaks into my frustrated mind.

“Have I given you enough time to get over your dad’s celebration yet? Or do you need more?” she asks casually as she grabs a glass of water.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I wanted to ask how it went last night. But since you were in a strange mood when I arrived this morning, I kind of pushed it aside.”

“Thank you.”I think.

“So, can I ask now?”

I bite back a smile knowing this would be killing her and pause before answering. “If you must.”

“Thank God. Yes, I must.”

She does a little fist pump and launches into it. “How was it? Did Ashley do a good job? How did your dad’s speech go? Did you dance? Was the food good? Any attractive men worth mentioning? And did you bring me a centerpiece?”

“Geez, would you like to take a breath?” I giggle.

“Yep, just did.”

“Shall I answer in order of importance?”

“Please.” She nods.

“I asked Mom to get you a centerpiece. Dad’s speech was lovely. Food was okay. Wine was delicious. I danced. There may have been a hottie or two, and Ashley did well. Did I miss anything?”

Sara’s face scrunches before she answers. “How was it?”

Damn. I picked the worst one to miss because I knew her question had a deeper meaning.

“It was good. Iwas good. I promise.”

“Okay. Thank you. I won’t bring it up again.”

I offer her a soft, appreciative smile. I love that while she still worries about me, she respects the fact that I don’t like talking about it, and I hate the way this town smothers me.

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