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I felt like a bug beneath a microscope.
“I’ll just remember that the closed door means happy fun time—” He paused, deliberately. “Oh wait. Research.” He grinned.
Everything was spinning. I couldn’t keep up. One minute he was angry, and the next he was teasing me about my… research. And I wasn’t even sure he’d accepted my apology.
“Are you hungry?” I needed something safe. There were too many mixed signals coming from him.
“I don’t know. Are you going to put it in a bowl on the floor for me?” he instantly replied.
My mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.
“Oh, wait,” Owen said with a grin. “You’re probably the one who wants the bowl, huh? Did you get one of those for your class, too?”
“No, just the collar and tail. Anything else would have made the project too expensive.” I’d done the math on my budget three times, and even if the professor was disappointed, I just couldn’t see a way to buy anything else for the project. “Besides, any bowl from the kitchen would work. I don’t think I need to eat from one, though.” At least, I hadn’t thought about it.
“You don’t want the full experience?” Owen asked. He met my eyes, and there was a challenge in them.
The pup in the videos didn’t eat on camera. The mask would have made that difficult. Those had been too expensive too, but I’d looked and made notes. I’d even picked one out, just in case that needed to go in the paper.
Owen reached into the cabinet, grabbing two of the cheap bowls. He shrugged. “Well, dish us up some food, puppy. I’m hungry.”
That wasn’t the way the master in the video had talked to his pup, but saying that to Owen probably wasn’t the right move. A master needed to be loving and warm, two things Owen had never been to me.
Ignoring the nickname, if I could even call it that, I pointed to the table. “I’ve got some rolls on the table already. Um, would you go get some silverware?” Maybe if I could get some space from him, I’d be able to think.
Owen gave a shrug, but it didn’t feel casual, more like I was being given a short reprieve. He kept watching me as he walked over to get the forks. I tried to get my thoughts together while I had the space, but I felt scattered and broken.
Dishing up the spaghetti, I kept telling myself I was being paranoid. Of course he was watching me. There was nothing surprising about it. He’d walked in on something weird earlier. I wanted to make him understand, but I clearly couldn’t find the words. Maybe we could just ignore it.
He was quieter than usual during dinner. I half-heartedly made small talk, and he just as half-heartedly replied to me. At the end, I was more than ready for it to be over. I got up, grabbing my bowl, but his eyes flicked to me.
“Leave it,” he told me. “I’ll clean up after dessert.”
“I… Thanks.” I was the one who usually ended up cleaning the kitchen, not that it was much. Cereal bowls and throwing away ramen containers mostly. Was it his way of saying he’d forgiven me? That he could forget what I’d said? “There are some chocolate chip cookies in the pantry. I saw them when I was digging around. I think they’re still good. Should I… Does that…”
He was looking at me funny. I fought the urge to look down and make sure I wasn’t covered in sauce.
“I thought they sounded good.”
Now I was just grasping for something to say. Why wouldn’t he answer? “Sounds good.”
That was it. Nothing else. No smile or nod. He just kept watching me. Paranoid. I was clearly still worked up from everything that had happened earlier. “Great.” I stepped back from the table, trying to look calmer than I felt. But I ruined it when I sent the chair flying. Shit.
“Shoot, I…” I looked like an idiot.
Owen tilted his head, and one eyebrow went up as he watched me pick up the chair. It was clear he thought I was an idiot too. At least it was something we could both agree on.
By the time I’d grabbed the cookies and brought them over to the table I was feeling less nuts and… not calmer, exactly, but more myself. I just needed to get through dessert, then things could go back to normal. He’d start ignoring me again, and I’d go back to pretending we were a family.
Having those few moments, even though they were too quiet, and we were like strangers staring across at each other, was nice. Not perfect and not even that good, but it was almost like things were the way they used to be before everything changed.
“Here you go.” I opened the package and shoved it across the table. Part of me wanted to ask if he wanted milk with them, but then he’d just accuse me of hovering or treating him like a kid, so I kept my mouth shut.
I was learning, but it always felt too late, like I only figured something out after I’d screwed up so badly people didn’t forget.
Owen paused for a long moment, so long I thought he was going to dismiss me all over again. Instead, he gestured to the floor beside him. “Kneel here,” he said, his voice quieter and gentler than it had ever been — and yet, there was iron in it, too, something that demanded obedience.
I looked around for a moment, not realizing at first that he meant me. I probably looked stupid, but it just hadn’t connected.
