As they said their goodbyes, no one made a joke or pushed food at her. The party rolled on.
Later, curled against Caleb in the quiet of his bedroom, the taste still lingered on her tongue. No matter how much water she drank, it wouldn’t fade.
Salt. Too much. Something had gone wrong, something she couldn’t explain.
And no explanation she could live with.
Caleb didn’t missthe way Mia went quiet once they were back in the truck. His grip tightened on the wheel. Silence like that always meant something was wrong.
She stared out the windshield, arms folded, jaw tight, clenching the tin of crackers against her thigh like it was evidence she didn’t know what to do with yet.
“Hey,” he said softly, keeping his eyes on the road. “One batch doesn’t mean anything.”
She huffed. “I know. It doesn’t make sense, though. That’s never happened to me before. I don’t know how I could have made that mistake.”
He drove the rest of the way without pushing. There was nothing else to say at this point.
Back at his place, Ranger greeted them like they’d been gone a week instead of a few hours. Mia knelt and rubbed the dog’s ears, her shoulders loosening just a notch.
She set her bag down by the door and walked into the kitchen, tossing the tin into the waste basket.
Caleb followed her, as did Ranger, probably hoping for whatever treat was in the tin.
“I’m sorry I cut things short,” she said.
“You don’t need to apologize.”
She nodded. Caleb leaned against the counter.
“Those crackers,” he said carefully. “You sure something didn’t get swapped? Different salt? Different cheese?”
She shook her head. “Same everything. Same recipe. I’ve made these hundreds of times; I don’t even think about it anymore.”
That part stuck with him.
People didn’t mess up things they knew by heart. Not without a reason. Perhaps Mia had too many projects stacked on her plate right now.
Later, when they were in bed, he just held her. She needed quiet, not distraction. He felt her shift restlessly beside him.
“Still thinking about it?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “It’s just too weird.”
He rolled onto his side, propping himself on his elbow. “Then we’ll figure it out.”
She gave a small laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Most things are,” he said. “People just complicate them.”
She didn’t respond, but he felt her relax against him, just a little. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, her forehead tucked beneath his chin like it belonged there.
Caleb stared into the night long after Mia’s breathing evened out.
It wasn’t the crackers that bothered him as much as the way the night had shifted. One minute she’d been happy and confident. The next, shaken, embarrassed and questioning herself.
Stress, he told himself. Too much on her shoulders.
Still, he couldn’t quite convince himself it was nothing at all.
