Once inside, he points to the couch. "Sit."
"I can explain?—"
"Sit. Now."
I sit.
Tyler disappears into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a large sandwich, and a glass of water.
"Eat," he says, setting them on the coffee table.
"I'm not hungry?—"
"Chloe Marie Painter." His voice drops into that commanding register that makes my stomach flip. "You have not eaten a proper meal all day. You're running yourself ragged. And when I checked on you, you lied to me. So, you're going to sit there and eat that sandwich while I decide how we're going to handle this."
Oh God. He's really mad.
Not yelling mad. Worse. Disappointed, mad.
I pick up the sandwich with shaking hands and take a bite.
It's turkey, cucumber, and cheese on wheat. Simple and perfect. The exact way I like it. And the second it hits my stomach, I realize how starving I actually am.
Tyler sits in the chair across from me, arms crossed, watching me eat.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"What are you sorry for?"
"For not eating. For lying. For?—"
"For breaking the rules, we established. Rules that exist to keep you healthy and safe." His eyes are intense on mine. "Why did you lie to me?"
“I didn’t mean to, I was going to call you back but…time got away from me.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you telling me you ate lunch.”
"Because I knew you'd be upset if I told the truth that I only ate half a protein bar."
"Half a protein bar? You didn’t even eat the whole thing?”
Oops.
“And lying was better?"
"No. I just—I panicked. I was overwhelmed and didn't want to deal with the lecture."
"That's not how this works, Chloe. Part of our dynamic is honesty. Complete honesty. If you can't tell me the truth, thisdoesn't work. Telling me that you hadn’t had a chance yet and explaining that you were swamped would have been better. Taking thirty seconds to call me, with your headphones in, would have been a better solution than lying and ignoring our rules."
Tears prick my eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Finish your sandwich."
I eat mechanically, each bite sitting heavy in my stomach. Not because the food is bad, but because I've disappointed him.
When I'm done, Tyler takes the plate and returns to his seat.
"Come here."
