“Since when?”
I hesitate again. The first time was… the night of the auction. But I don’t tell him that, so I sign instead,
“Ever since I met him.”
He lets out a quiet laugh—dry, not amused.
“So… weeks ago”
My heart stumbles in my chest.
“I’m not mad,” he says, letting out a breath, like he can see my heart already breaking.
“I just—” He shakes his head, eyes flitting away from me, down to his own hands. “The only words you’ve been saying to me for the past four years are ‘happy birthday, Tyler’ every year.”
My chest caves. Guilt stabs sharp and unforgiving. I want to talk to him, I want to talk more, but I can’t. I still don’t know why I speak to Alex the way I do. I do not understand the science or the psychology behind it, but there is nothing I can do about it.
“I’m sorry,” I sign to him with a pleading look. “I’ll try, it’s not something I can control.”
“fuck Lucas, stop apologizing,” Tyler says calmly. “I am not mad at you. I know it is something you have no control over. I’m sorry for making you feel guilty.”
I look at him, checking if I’ll see any sign of disappointment in his eyes, but there’s none. Only a little bit of hurt that makes me feel like a Bad friend. We sit there again in silence. But this time it feels worse than before. Like something’s snapped between us and we’re trying not to bleed.
Then Tyler’s voice cuts through the silence,
“You like him.”
I tense. My heart feels like it stalls in my chest.
“It’s not a question,” he adds. “It’s obvious.”
I look down. I can feel his curious eyes still on me.
“I think I do.” I finally sign.
He doesn’t say anything right away. But the look he gives me, soft and knowing, makes my heart ache because he knows, he knows it’s not just ‘I think.’
His gaze presses into me, stripping down whatever walls I’ve tried to keep up, and I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Yes,” I sign. “I like him—more than I should. I let him kiss me. Touch me. I let him leave that mark on my neck because… I wanted him to; if I didn’t like him, I wouldn’t have let him touch me.”
Tyler doesn’t move.
“And I quit my job because he told me to. That makes me an idiot, right?”
“Lucas—”
“I know,” I sign before he can finish. My chest starts to tighten again.“I know it’s stupid. I barely know him. And yet he’s… he’s everywhere in my head. I let him into my life, and he just… he doesn’t ask, he takes and gives, and I let him. That makes me careless, doesn’t it?”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“he looks at me like I’m not broken. Like I’m not just Deaf or someone who chooses not to talk. He calls me beautiful. Holds me like I matter. Like I’m enough, he makes me feel—”
My hands freeze mid-sign. My throat aches.
I don’t know what I want to say. Feel loved? Cared for? Wanted? God, I barely know this man, and I don’t know what it is that I feel. But I feel it all at once, and it’s too much. It’s terrifying.
A sob breaks out of me. One I’ve been trying so hard to keep down. My body jolts slightly with it, and I can feel the tears burning in my eyes before they fall. My hands tremble as I try to cover my mouth.
