Chapter 37 Cracks In The Wall

• After that conversation, it’s like a wall has been built between us. Not a flimsy barrier that could be broken with a touch or a word, but a cold, unyielding wall that Ric seems unwilling to scale. He doesn’t talk to me — doesn’t even look at me. His usual, effortless confidence feels like a distant memory. Instead, he sits across from me at the breakfast table, quietly eating the meal Rose delivered in the morning. The scrape of his fork against the plate is the only sound in the room, loud enough to make me wince.
• I sit there, idly pushing the food around on my plate, the knots in my stomach leaving me incapable of taking even a single bite. The guilt of wasting it eventually washes over me, and I force myself to eat. The flavours that would’ve normally delighted me now taste like nothing. I swallow hard, willing the lump in my throat to disappear.
• A part of me is grateful for Ric’s silence. My mind is a mess, jumbled and disoriented, and I’m afraid that opening my mouth would only make things worse. And yet, it pricks me. I miss the easy cadence of his voice, the way he teased, reassured, or sometimes just said nothing at all but still filled the silence with his presence. I miss him — the sure touch of his hands, the softness of his lips against mine.