He didn’t look at me the way Miles did.
Miles looked and saw the surface, sweet girl, shy smile, steady silence.
Joshua looked and somehow saw through it. Like he knew where it hurt. Like he’d memorised every fracture in me because he recognised it in himself.
And maybe that was what made it so hard to hate him. Because he didn’t just notice me. He saw me, the ugly parts, the scared parts, the tired parts, and still stayed close enough to burn.
It’s selfish, I know.
To crave the kind of attention that hurts as much as it heals. But with him… it felt like I finally mattered.
Even when it hurt.
Even when I shouldn’t want it.
Even when I tell myself I don’t.
Joshua made me feel seen in ways I didn’t think I deserved.
He placed the plate in front of me, carefully, as if it were some priceless thing that might break if he breathed too close.
The smell hit first, warm and buttery, and it looked… good. Really good.
I picked up the fork and twirled a bite, pretending not to notice that he was still standing there. Watching. Like waiting for a reaction was the scariest part of all this.
When I finally took a bite, his stare didn’t ease.
If anything, it got worse.
I looked up slowly, meeting his eyes, and he didn’t even try to hide it, this quiet, restless kind of curiosity sitting behind them, like he needed my approval more than he’d ever admit.
So I grabbed my phone, fingers still clumsy with my cast, and typed a quick message before holding it up.
Surprisingly edible
His brows lifted. He caught it. Read it.
And the faintest twitch pulled at the corner of his mouth, as if he wanted to smile but was physically fighting himself not to.
“Yeah?” he muttered under his breath, half amused, half disbelieving.
I shrugged, forcing myself not to smile, not to give in, not to let the warmth that was starting to build in my chest show on my face.
He was holding it back, too, I could tell by the way his jaw clenched slightly, his gaze flicking away like smiling might ruin everything.
For a few seconds, the silence felt softer than it had in months. Just the sound of forks against plates, the TV murmuring in the background, and him sitting across from me pretending not to care if I finished the food, but watching every time I did.
And maybe, just maybe, for tonight… that was enough.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Joshua
The whole term was over now. Christmas was coming up, and to me, it wasn’t that special. I always spent it alone. Better that way.
Next four weeks of peace and quiet.
My head was pounding from the noise, the routine, the pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t.
