[Sorry, dear readers. I’ve been sick, but I can’t miss an update, so if you find the Chapters repeating, it’s because I can’t write. I’ll change it when I get better.]
Heather took a long, tired sip from her coffee. It was lukewarm now, but she didn’t care. She just needed sothing warm in her mouth, sothing to hold while she sat still and tried to catch her breath.
Across the table, Alex was chewing slowly. Too slowly. But she didn’t scold him. He had one hand on his spoon, and the other one was flying his little spaceship in the air. He made soft sound effects with his lips, lost in his own world.
She watched him, half-listening, half-sinking into her own thoughts.
She had finally slept well. For the first ti in a long while. The kind of sleep where your body sinks into the bed and your chest feels lighter in the morning. It didn’t last long, but it was enough. Enough to remind her she was still alive and still had things she needed to hold together.
She was pulled out of that mont when the spaceship suddenly floated in front of her face. Alex was done eating and now trying to show her sothing, but she had missed the mont because her thoughts were too loud. Her eyes t his, and she smiled faintly, to compensate for not listening to him.
"Mrs. Thorne?" A soft voice ca from behind her. The housekeeper stood there holding the breakfast tray ant for Caius.
Her eyes went to the tray, then back to the woman.
"Is he done already?" Heather asked in confusion. "It’s only been ten minutes."
The woman shifted on her feet. "He hasn’t touched it."
"So... why bring it back?"
"He said he won’t eat unless you bring it to him."
Heather’s eyes narrowed. "Why does he want to bring it?"
The woman hesitated. Her voice turned lower and more apologetic. "He said if I co back without you, he’ll throw it at ."
Heather sighed deeply, pressing her fingers against her forehead. Of course he would say sothing like that. He hadn’t changed much; not in that departnt.
Seriously?
"Who does he think is going to lose?" Heather muttered more to herself than the elderly woman before her.
"Sorry?"
Heather looked at the woman. She was older, kind, and clearly uncomfortable. "Never mind," she said. Then, standing up, she added flatly, "Co on. Let’s go."
.
.
She knocked twice on the door. It was a habit, even in her own house. Especially now, with the way things were. When she pushed the door open, she saw him sitting in the dark. His wheelchair was by the window and he was staring outside.
The curtains were still drawn. The room was gloomy, almost depressing.
"You could have opened the curtains," she said, stepping in. Her voice wasn’t annoyed, she was just tired.
The housekeeper quickly set the tray down and hurried out, mumbling sothing about Caius preferring the dark. Heather didn’t stop her, she had done enough already. She turned back at Caius.
Now it was just the two of them in the quiet.
She didn’t like how the room felt. "You’re really not going to eat?" she asked gently.
Caius didn’t turn, but that didn’t stop him from talking. "I was just beginning to trust you," he said. "And then you send a stranger to bring my food."
Heather took a few steps closer. "She’s not a stranger. She’s worked for us for a long ti. She’s the housekeeper."
He didn’t answer. His eyes were still locked on the glass in front of him.
"What are you looking at?" she asked.
She walked closer, near the window, and looked out. From here, she could see the dining room below; the housekeeper was back there, now feeding Alex so fruit slices. Her own coffee mug was still on the table beside him.
It took her a mont to realize what this ant.
He had been staring at them.
Maybe this was why he wanted her to co upstairs... to separate her from Alex. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just trying to make sense of things.
When she turned her head back toward him, he wasn’t looking out the window anymore.
He was looking straight at her. His eyes were deep and quiet, and they didn’t move away when she t them.
She frowned a little. "Why are you staring at like that?"
He didn’t look away still.
"You have srizing eyes."
Heather stood still. That wasn’t what she expected. She wasn’t even sure how to respond. But after a few seconds, she raised one eyebrow and gave him a slow half-smile. "I know."
She went over to the tray, pulled it closer to him, and opened the lid.
Her eyes lifted to et his again.
"Eat," she said simply. "You need to eat."
He looked down at the food, then back at her face. His gaze stayed there, like the food had already been forgotten.
"What now?" she asked, sensing his hesitation. "You don’t like it?"
"It’s not the food," he said.
"Then what?"
He looked down at his hands. They were wrapped in bandages, stiff and slightly swollen.
Heather understood.
But she also rembered watching him use those sa hands to wheel himself yesterday. They weren’t completely useless.
"You don’t actually want to feed you," she said slowly.
"Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?" he replied. "You didn’t have a problem feeding the boy."
"He’s a child," she said.
He tilted his head slightly. "What’s the difference between a child and soone who’s injured?"
Heather crossed her arms. "The difference is, you’re not helpless. You’re being difficult."
Caius turned his head away again. "I’m being difficult because I asked for help?"
"No, Caius. You’re being difficult because you’re only asking for help from , and only when it puts in a position where you get to test ."
He looked back at her.
Heather softened just a little. Her voice was less defensive now. "The housekeeper could’ve helped you."
"I don’t know who she is." He said cutely.
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