His lips pinched together before he stepped farther back into the hall. “Good night, Cove.”
I hesitated for a second with my hand on the knob, then murmured back, “Good night, Tobias.”
I closed the door, turning the lock the moment it clicked shut.
I stood there for a while afterward, palm still pressed against the door, listening for movement on the other side. I heard nothing at first except the storm and my own breathing. Then, after several seconds, footsteps moved away down the hall.
Only when they faded did I let my forehead fall gently against the wood.
I took one breath, then another.
My body didn’t believe it was over yet. My pulse was still too fast, my mind too awake, with every nerve in me waiting for the door to open again even though I knew it wouldn’t.
Probably.
No.
I closed my eyes.
It wouldn’t.
I turned and leaned back against the door, letting my head fall back against it as I fought to calm the trembling in my limbs.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “It’s okay.”
I didn’t move from the door for a long time.
13
Cove
Some time passed before things stopped feeling weird between us.
Not enough that I’d forgotten the whole thing, but enough that I stopped thinking about it every time he entered a room.
Mostly.
The first few days after the storm were… awkward.
There was no better word for it, and trust me, I looked for one. Awkward sounded too small for what it was, too high school, toowe made eye contact after an embarrassing text got sent to the wrong person. This had been much bigger than that.
Still, awkward was the word that fit, because neither of us seemed to know what to do with the space it left behind.
The morning after, Tobias apologized again.
He’d asked me to come to his study after breakfast, which had already made my stomach sink because Tobias’s asking fora private conversation in that tone of voice made it sound like I was getting fired, not to mention the fact that he’d never once had me in there before.
It was like walking to the principal’s office in grade school, but a thousand times worse.
When I approached the study, I found the door open. I’d peered into the room and seen Tobias sitting down behind a large desk, glaring down at a laptop as the screen reflected against the lenses of his glasses.
He hadn’t looked tired, which felt unfair, because I’d barely slept after he left the guest room. I’d spent the rest of the night listening to thunder roll itself farther and farther away while staring at the locked door.
It didn’t seem like he’d noticed my presence, so for a minute, I stood still in the doorway, silently watching him as he continued glaring at his laptop.
It was different—a heck of a lot different—than what he’d done, of course, but I felt like I deserved to observe him during what he believed to be a private moment by himself after he’d seen me at my most vulnerable.
Or maybe I was just looking for an excuse.
