I gaped at him. “What?”
“Come on.” He beckoned me with his hand.
“D-Dinner?” I frantically tried to figure this development out.
“Yes. As in the meal that occurs at this time of the evening. I don’t want to eat alone, so come on.”
An order was an order, and I knew better than to ever leave anyone hanging. I shot to my feet, only reaching back to log out of the computer. It was just about time to quit for the day, but I’d lost track of time.
He waited for me at the door, and I prayed that he didn’t expect me to talk. Silence was the style he chose, though, leading me down the stairs and to the dining room. Plates of food were already set out for one. A few bites had been taken from his dish,and I realized that he’d already been in here to dine alone when he reconsidered.
So you don’t want to eat dinnerwith me, you just don’t want to eat alone.
That made it worse. Like I was literally a thing to plug into place for a strict purpose. Here, I supposed I was filling space.
A maid brought out more dishes for me, but when another one poured a glass of wine for me, he spoke up. “She doesn’t drink.”
I raised my brows, surprised he remembered that I’d mentioned that.
He pointed at the salad, too. “And she’s allergic to eggs. So take that back and bring her another, please.”
He recalled that detail as well. I frowned and tried not to read too far into it.
Dutifully doing as I was told, I began to eat. The silence should’ve been unnerving, especially after we’d kissed, but the more I reminded myself that it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, I could focus on chewing and swallowing without the risk of choking.
After a while, though, the lack of communication tripped me into such an uncomfortable state of anxiousness that I couldn’t stand it. “Bad day?” I guessed.
Part of me feared he’d snap at me for asking a question. One was too many.
Another part of me feared he’d ignore me completely, which would break my spirit.
Why is it so hard to be liked?
To be treated as someone worthy of respect and consideration?
Why am I never good enough?
“Yes,” he bit out as a reply. “A bad day.”
I was stunned that he’d answered.
One question is too many.I wouldn’t dare to push my luck. Yet, I slipped again and spoke up. “Sorry.”
He let out a rough exhale, like I’d pissed him off.
See. Why can’t you learn? One question is one too many for him. Just shut up. He told you to eat with him, not talk.
“My father’s health is deteriorating.”
I let my fork fall to the plate as I whipped my head up to face him. “Oh, Adrik. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
He shot me a smirk. “Oh, you are?”
I frowned. He didn’t have to be so testy with me and doubt what I said.
“You’re sorry to hear that my father is unwell, huh? Why, because you have such a great father yourself and know how hard it is to lose one?” He shook his head and didn't look at me.
“No.” I watched him, hating how stressed he was. Like a wounded bear, a troubled giant. “I have the worst father in the world, if you want my honest opinion. But I do know how hard it is to lose a parent.”
