“Human.”
He looks at me like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t have the energy for it. I lean forward slightly. “Caiden stepping back doesn’t mean he stops caring,” I say. “It means I do what I should have been doing. That’s all.”
“It shouldn’t be on either of you.”
“It already is. I’m not saying that to make you feel worse,” I add. “I’m saying it because it’s true, and pretending otherwise is a waste of energy.”
He nods again. “I’ll pull it together,” he says after a bit. “I will. I just need—”
I stop him before he finishes the sentence, “You don’t need to rush anything. You need to eat something, sleep if the baby lets you, and let people help without feeling bad.”
His mouth twitches a little, “That sounds suspiciously like an order.”
“It is.” That gets the faintest huff out of him. It’s not quite a laugh, but it’s close enough. “You’ll eat before bed,” I say. “Something real, not whatever is left in that mug.”
He looks down, giving a tiny eye-roll. “Yes, sir.” That almost gets another laugh.
“All right.” I stand after a minute, then head for the door. When I begin to open it, he says my name and I turn.
“Ari, I’m sorry,” he says. “About Caiden. I hope I haven’t caused any problems.”
“That’s between him and me; he’s really angry with me, but we’ll be fine,” I say, which is true.
Caiden didn’t come tonight.
But tomorrow, I’ll still be here.
THIRTY-ONE
CAIDEN
It doesn’t take a genius to work out I’m not cooling off. I’m angry in a way that I’ve never felt before, which is saying something, and right now I couldn’t care less who sees it. If anything, I’m past ordinary anger and into that nastier stretch where everything gets under my skin, and everyone around me seems to be existing wrong.
I’m snapping at people who don’t deserve it and avoiding the ones who do. It’s easier to keep moving than it is to stop long enough to feel how trapped I am, how every choice lately seems to come with consequences I don’t get to pick.
Honestly, fuck everyone.
By the third day of it, Ari has clearly had enough. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague ever since he warned me off seeing Niko. He catches me in the corridor outside admin, his hand closing around my arm with enough force to leave no doubt this isn’t optional. “Now,” he says sharply, already pulling me with him into his office.
I don’t argue. Arguing in the corridor gets attention, and attention is the last thing either of us needs. He marches me in, shuts the door behind us, then locks it.
That does nothing to improve my mood.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, turning to face me.
I laugh, but it comes out short and ugly. “Pick a category.”
“You’ve been hostile for days,” he says. “You’re snapping at everyone.”
“Congratulations,” I shoot back. “You noticed.”
He doesn’t rise to it, which is infuriating in itself. “This isn’t about me noticing you’re angry,” he says. “So, try again.”
I look past him at the wall while trying to step past him to get to the door and leave. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t get that option right now.”
I turn back fast. “Add that to the list of things I’m fucking sick of hearing.”
