This lightness distracted me from the disconnect between me and Aster, and we were both incredibly busy now winter had ended. Fourteen more goats gave birth and after I was done checking them, Tim waited at home. Asterspent his days darting between examination squares and his evenings petting Tim while typing furiously on his laptop.
I told myself Aster’s hugs were shorter because he had lots to be getting on with. I reasoned that we couldn’t watch so much TV because we arrived home later in the day and had too many responsibilities.
My logical explanations stuttered when I noticed Aster didn’t look me in the eye when we talked. He rarely sat on the sofa, settling himself each evening on the armchair instead. He didn’t lecture me in the mornings about carrying him to the bed every night.
I watched him one evening while pretending to read. He definitely was working, but I kept catching his gaze on me. He snapped a smile into place each time. It didn’t reach his eyes.
Something crucial about Aster had gone flat. I wasn’t sure why, but it started on the snow day. As I trekked across the island and spent lonely nights flicking through books, I came up with two possible theories.
Despite Aster’s kindness, something I’d disclosed had made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was my inability to judge when someone had the capability for murder. Maybe he worried about what the secret might be. Maybe he’d thought more about what I’d said and decided I was to blame.
That last option scared me. It almost made me hope my other theory for Aster’s strange behaviour was right.
The only other thing I’d done on the snow day that could affect Aster’s behaviour was waking up in bed with him. He’d said he was fine with it. Maybe that was true, but he was distancing himself so there would be no repeat performance. I’d been careful not to linger in his arms or touch him without invitation, but maybe I’d slipped up and revealedhow much I wanted more. He was keeping himself self-contained until I got the message.
I watched Aster walk away from the cabin a week after the snow day, his scent lingering on my shirt from the most perfunctory of hugs, and I knew this couldn’t continue. Something I’d done had made him unhappy. I needed to make it right.
I left it until midday so he’d think I happened upon him, rather than I’d followed him across the mountains to force a conversation he seemed determined to avoid. When I came into view down river from where he sat with a posse of goats on a checked blanket, his face lit up. But then dimmed. The same reaction he’d had to all my arrivals since the snow day.
The goats scattered when I sat down, perhaps sensing I wouldn’t be as generous with any food tucked about my person. Only the friendly one lingered, settling in for a nap on the edge of the blanket.
‘I’ve done something wrong.’
Aster blinked at me for long seconds. ‘You know normal human beings start conversations with words like hello, then ease into the good stuff?’
I resisted the faint urge to tell him I wasn’t human. That would open up a wide avenue of conversations I was unwilling to participate in.
‘I’ve done something wrong,’ I repeated. ‘Since the snow day, you’ve been acting strange. I’m sorry I’ve done something that made you uncomfortable. I want to make it right.’
Shock melted from Aster’s face, replaced by a complicated mix I couldn’t interpret. ‘Nothing’s wrong, Cal.’
His heart skipped. He was lying.
Dad taught me that stating it outright when people lied wasn’t a good idea. They didn’t like it. Better to take a softerapproach. Even when I categorically knew they weren’t telling the truth.
‘I think something is,’ I persisted. ‘Did anything I said about the storm upset you?’
I could definitely name the emotion flitting across Aster’s face now. Concern. ‘No. Not at all. We can talk about it more, if you want to?’
His heartbeat stayed steady. I shook my head. ‘No, I don’t need to.’
Aster spread his hands, looking at everything but me. ‘The offer is always there.’
‘Thank you.’ I balled my hands into fists and willed myself not to blush as I forged on. ‘I wonder if I made you uncomfortable by sleeping in the bed with you that night? I can promise it won’t happen again.’
Aster laughed, but not his normal involuntary snorts or delighted guffaws. This was sharp-edged. Bitter. ‘Oh, don’t worry. You’ve made that abundantly clear.’
I narrowed my eyes. Wasn’t that a good thing?
Aster sighed. ‘Stop beating yourself up and worrying you’ve done something to hurt me. You’re perfect.’ He bit his lip. ‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.’
Life would be a lot easier without advanced senses. Without them, I could have been comforted by Aster’s words. I wouldn’t know his last two statements were lies.
I glared at my crossed legs. Aster didn’t want to talk about whatever was making things strange between us. Maybe that was the problem.
I softened my brow as I looked up at him. Louisa once told me I had resting rage face, so I aimed for a gentle smile.
‘You know you can talk to me about anything that’smaking you unhappy? I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like you can’t.’
