We finish brunch talking about lighter things. Her upcoming work trip. Dad's adjustment to his new retirementcommunity. The latest Coven drama involving Mollie and Thorne's increasingly obvious tension.
By the time Sable pays the check (she insists as she always does), the sun is beginning to set. She hugs me on the sidewalk outside Proud Mary, tight and fierce.
"You're tougher than you think," she whispers. "Don't let him make you forget that."
"I won't."
"And Scout? Make him work for it. He hurt you. He needs to understand that actions have consequences."
"I will. Thanks, Sable."
The drive back to the condo takes twenty minutes. My stomach churns the entire way. I'm not sure what I'm going to say, how I'm going to feel when I see him.
When I unlock the door and step inside, I hear water running. The shower. Silas must have just gotten home from practice.
I drop my bag by the door and wait.
Five minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. His hair is wet and messy. Water droplets cling to his chest and shoulders. I swallow, fighting the urge to peel off his towel and see where those water droplets trail down to.
I’m here to talk, not fuck him senseless. It’s important that I remember that. When he sees me, Silas stops dead.
"Scout."
I feel shy, tucking a springy curl behind my ear. "Hi."
"I didn't know if you were coming back."
"I live here." I shove my hands in my pockets. "We need to talk."
He gulps. "Yeah. Of course. Let me just get dressed."
"No!" The word comes out squeakier than I intended andI clear my throat. "Actually, stay like that. It's distracting. I need you distracted so you'll be honest with me."
His eyebrows rise but he doesn't argue. He moves to the couch and sits. I sit on the opposite end, as far from him as possible.
"Okay," I say. "I'm going to ask you questions. You're going to answer them honestly. No deflecting, minimizing, or trying to protect me from the truth."
"Okay." His throat bobs.
"Why didn’t you just tell me that you were…you?"
"Because I was scared." His jaw tightens. "It was easy to joke and flirt as strangers. You were opening up to StatMan in ways you wouldn't with me. You were letting him see your real self. And I got addicted to it."
"But you were lying."
"I know." His voice cracks. "I know that now. At the time, I told myself it wasn't hurting anyone. It was just talking."
"It wasn't just talking. I told you things I've never told anyone. You were the first person I’ve been vulnerable with since I left Enzo." My throat gets tight. "You took advantage of that."
"I did. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Scout. I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn’t help myself."
"Sorry isn't enough." I pull my knees up to my chest. "I need to understand why you felt like you needed to hide behind a screen. Why couldn't you just be honest with me?"
He's quiet for a long moment. Then he says, "I've never been good at being vulnerable. Hockey beats it out of you. My childhood beat it out of me before that. Being open meant making myself a target. So I learned to shut it all down."
"But StatMan was vulnerable."
"StatMan had distance. Safety. If you rejected him, it wouldn't destroy me because it wasn't really me." He looks atme now, eyes dark with pain. "But you? The real you, face-to-face? The girl that I’ve been obsessed with for years? Being rejected would have broken something unfixable."
