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Sure, she’s smiling. But even an idiot could see that it’s forced. She’s only joining in with the conversation when she’s prompted to, and she seems a million miles away.
Is it because the professor has joined us for dinner? She seemed disappointed when he didn’t join us for a surf, but now his presence seems to be making her uncomfortable, and I hate that.
I wish I could get her to open up to me like she did when she thought I was her therapist. There’s no denying that our relationship has moved forward since she discovered the truth, but in some ways it feels like we’ve taken a huge step backwards into the territory of being virtual strangers once more.
Fuck. How do I put things right?
I watch as Malia pushes her food around her plate, barely taking a bite. Something is definitely bothering her, and I want to know what it is. I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. She looks up at me, surprise written all over her face. I can see the unshed tears in her eyes, and it breaks my heart. I know that whatever has happened has hurt her deeply, and I want to make it better.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask softly, squeezing her hand.
Malia shakes her head, refusing to meet my eyes. “It’s nothing,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s obviously not nothing,” I counter. “Talk to me, please. I miss that.”
She takes a deep breath, and her lips tremble as she speaks. “It’s the professor,” she says finally.
I feel a surge of protectiveness towards Malia, and a burning anger towards the prof for hurting her. Again. “What did he do to you?” I ask, my voice low and deadly.
Malia shakes her head once more. “I thought I was over…it all, but seeing him again... it’s brought everything back. I still don’t have answers.”
My heart sinks as I listen to her words. I know all too well the pain of not having answers. And it’s so much worse for her. We’ve still not come clean. Asking her to blindly trust us isn’t fair. I can see how much the secrets we keep are hurting her, and I’d give anything to put things right between us, but the professor gave his orders. We’re not to tell her anything until he says so. But we’re running out of time. I can feel it.
“Malia—”
“It’s okay, Reef. I’m being silly. The professor asked me to trust him a little longer while he gets answers, and I agreed that I would. I just didn’t expect to feel so…down about it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“Still, I wish I could help. Make you feel better somehow.”
“I could do with a distraction. Do you maybe want to watch a film or something after dinner?”
“Absolutely.” I grin at her. “Want to ask the others to join us?”
She shrugs. “We can. Or you could maybe show me your room? I remember the professor saying you have a view of the forest. I’d love to see that.”
“We can watch a movie in my room, and of course I’ll show you the view.”
She immediately brightens, and I get a surge of warmth for being the guy to make her feel that way. We share a smile and return to our dinner, this time Malia’s much more present, laughing and joining in with Cove teasing Bhodi. Even the professor cracks a joke or two.
Malia fits into our group so well. She’s a perfect addition. I just wish it could last.
* * *
“Shall we?” I ask Malia once all the dinner things have been cleared away. She’s sitting beside a small campfire, practically in Cove’s lap, toasting marshmallows.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” She tries to extract herself from his embrace, but he wraps his arms even tighter around her waist and grins at me.
“Let her finish her s’mores first.”
“How many of those have you had?” I’ve been washing up and cleaning down the BBQ for a while.
“Not as many as Bhodi,” Malia giggles.
Bhodi comes out of the house, clutching his stomach and groaning.
