But he did. Because of the truth-teller potion.
Tension stretches taut between us.
Suddenly, I feel bad for asking him something so vulnerable. He was supposed to get up and leave, not actually answer me. This isn’t fair of me. I should share something with him, too.
“Family dinners weren’t really a thing when I was growing up,” I offer quietly. “Dad was either gone at work or storming out after a fight. Mom would be lying in her bed, too busy crying to eat, so I’d end up pouring us some cereal or making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for both of us. Otherwise Mom probably wouldn’t have eaten for days.”
Amund frowns. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I say quickly.
My therapist would probably point out that I’m minimizing feelings right now, but I can’t help it. The sympathetic look in Amund’s eyes makes me so uncomfortable. I said more than I should have. I don’t even know why I did. It’s not likeIdrank the potion.
“I’ve had plenty of family dinners with my foster parents,” I add, trying to lighten the mood. “We ate dinner together every night, whether I wanted to or not.”
A small laugh escapes me. I always resented how Patricia made such a big deal of eating together, like she wanted to show off what a good homemaker she is or prove to me that we’re a family. Maybe that’s what family actually is: the people you choose to spend your time with, not just those who share your blood.
“You must miss Nils and your mom,” I add, thinking of Patricia and Jim.
“I do,” he admits. “But that doesn’t matter anymore.”
The pain in his voice sounds a bit like an invitation. It must be the truth-teller potion, but Amund seems softer somehow, a little more open. As much as I hate to admit it, some part of meisdrawn to him. I want to know more about him. Apparently he knows a lot about me.
“Why not?” I ask gently.
“Because Nils hates me.”
At a nearby table, the berserkr students stand, eying us as they carry their trays by. They’re looking at me like I have a death wish to be sitting with a hunter.
How long have Amund and I been talking for? I check the clock on the wall. Somehow it’s already been fifteen minutes. The dining hall will be closing soon, yet Isaac and Tala still haven’t shown up.
I wait until the berserkr students are gone before I continue. “I think Nils misses you, too.”
“He’s better off without me,” Amund says, avoiding eye contact. “They both are.”
He must genuinely believe that, or he wouldn’t be able to say it. Why would he think that? He clearly cares about Nils, and having someone like Amund on your side, well… it wouldn’t be the worst thing.
I fall silent, not knowing what I can possibly say.
To my surprise, Amund continues on his own. “I could have gone with them, but I chose my father instead. I couldn’t leave him too. My father is… a complicated man. He’s the strongest person I know, the best hunter, and I’ve wanted to be like him since I was little. Sure, he can be demanding, but it’s only because he has high expectations. He’s hard on me, but he’s even harder on himself.”
The way that Amund talks about it sounds like a trauma bond. Something that countless therapists have explained to me about mymom. I understand it in theory. Sort of. But I’d be lying if I said I understood why she stayed for so long with someone who abused her, or how she could love someone who hurt her.
Licking my lips, I ask quietly, “Why couldn’t you leave?”
“Because I love him.” Amund glances away. “No matter how he treats me, I know he loves me back. He’s only hard on me because I’m his son and he wants the best for me. And it isn’t all bad. There are plenty of good times, too. My father isn’t a man of empty words. When he tells you something, he means it. And when he’s proud of you? There’s no better feeling in the world.”
Is that how Mom felt too?
“I never understood why my mom didn’t leave my dad,” I admit. “I guess it must have been like that for her, too. When they were fighting, they seemed like the last two people on earth who should be together. Screaming. Punching walls. You name it. But there were also times they seemed really happy. My dad would surprise her with flowers or expensive jewelry or a vacation or something, and things would seem good for a while. Great, even. The problem was, it never lasted.”
By the time I finish, that pesky lump in my throat is back again.
Amund stands. At first I think he’s going to leave, but he takes the seat next to me instead. Great. Instead of driving him away, I only brought him closer.
He reaches for my face, only to stop.
Amund hesitates before asking, “May I?”
