“Are you hungry?”
Starving. “Oh, it’s fine, I don’t need to eat yet.”
I refrained myself from hitting my head against the nearest thing hard enough to knock me unconscious—ergo, my husband currently standing still at my side, staring into my eyes.
“You do notneedto eat?” he asked. He sounded genuinely confused.
“I…I mean, I don’t know what time it is yet. I can wait until—”
“It is not what I asked,” he interrupted, his hand squeezing mine lightly. “I asked if you were hungry. Because your stomach is making odd noises and if it is not related to hunger, I will need to check for potential health issues.”
Oh.Shit.“I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll eat when you eat.”
Filbur narrowed his eyes, studying me. Did I say something wrong? Jake always scolded me for basic need-related things. I was not to eat unless he and his family were eating too. I was to watch my food intake because I was, according to him, too fat for his tastes. I had to ask for permission before going to the damn bathroom.
Iknewall this was wrong. I knew it wasn’t what a healthy relationship looked like. But my brain was conditioned now and it was too hard to stop. To voice my needs. To—
“You are not a bother,” he said softly, taking a step closer to place his palm on my belly. “Are you hungry?” he asked again. “You should not sleep on an empty stomach.”
My brain was yelling at me. Telling me I needed to keep denying. To stay invisible and compliant so as to remain safe.
“Tamara.” His hand found the side of my face, his sharp thumb careful as it caressed my cheek. “Where have you gone?”
“I-I’m right here, I—”
“You are not. Your body is here but your mind is lost.”
My vision blurred at the edges and I couldn’t control the erratic rhythm of my damn heart. It didn’t know the differencebetween my body needing food and jumping off a cliff. I blamed my parents, Jake and his family for breaking me.
“Okay, we will get some food. And then, you will decide if you want to eat it or not,” he concluded.
Filbur didn’t let go of my hand as we walked through the camp. People sat around campfires, eating dishes they got from large tents surrounding them. It was loud, but not in the overwhelming way Jake’s parties used to be. People chatted, ate, laughed, played some strange instruments that produced soft music…When they turned to look at us, they only smiled, bowing their heads as we walked by.
“I am sorry that you had to come during our migration. We are usually more…settled.”
Filbur stopped us in front of a large table where dozens of different dishes were placed. It all looked oddly good, and the smell was absolutely delicious.
“Am I right when I think that asking what you want will result in you telling me you will eat what I eat?” He looked at me with a cocked brow, a slight smile pulling at his face.
I cleared my throat. “Hum…Yes, probably.”
He shook his head, turning away from me to study the food. My body didn’t tense as much as I expected it to, but again, although I was used to and expected some sort of disappointment, Filbur only looked amused.
“I will get a bit of everything then.” He bent to grab a huge plate made of woven leaves and started carefully piling up food. “So you can taste and tell me what you prefer.”
This man was heaven sent. Or…Was it all a ruse? To make me trust him? So I’d let my guard down?
Were there really good men—goodpeople—out there?
Shit. Was I being paranoid again?
“Okay, I think it should be enough.” Understatement. The plate was nearly crumbling under the weight of everything. “Come, we will find a quiet fire to sit next to.”
Filbur took my hand again and led me around the most crowded area, dipping his head to a few people but never stopping to chat with them. Never letting go of me.
“I am sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “They are eager to meet you but they will wait until you are ready.”
I gave him a questioning look. “Who?”
