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Silla drops her fork on her plate, which is thankfully mostly empty, pushing her chair away.

“Six pounds,” she says, enunciating each word, making my eyes widen and my stomach hurt.

“Baby,” I whisper, my eyes drinking her in.

“Thank you for dinner, Warden. The conversation was stimulating as always,” Silla mutters sarcastically, turning for the door.

Wait… what? This isn’t supposed to go like this. Fuck… fuck!

Rising to my feet, I move to cut her off. “Silla, please. Gods, I hate that you call me Warden. My name is Gray or Grayson. Can you please just talk to me?”

I sound desperate, but I couldn’t give less of a shit. She can’t just walk away from me. My hands clench into fists, trying to tell myself that tying her to my bed isn’t acceptable without consent.

As Silla’s hand touches the handle, my eyes are drawn to how hard it’s shaking.

“Silla…” I whisper, seeing there’s something very wrong. We aren’t verbally sparring, she really wants to leave me.

“You left me to flounder this week,” she says, her voice small and sad. “I know you’re too busy for me, Cinder is stirring the pot and making things difficult. I had a really shitty week too. These cramps were some of the worst that I’ve ever had, and I had to sit through several conversations about sterilization…”

I swear someone junk punched me at her words. I was calm, collected, and matter of fact when I discussed this with Patricia, but it killed me. I’m the boss here, I can’t show emotions about things that I would have to discuss if Silla was anyone else. But the truth is that she isn’t a random inmate.

I want her to be mine.

Sucking in a breath to speak, I force myself to stop when she opens her mouth again. I’m going to learn from my mistakes. I will not interrupt her.

Pressing my lips together, I wait for her to speak to me.

“My life isn’t my own,” Silla whispers. “I am very sure Cinder wants me here for some Godsforsaken reason, and it scares me that I just don’t know what it is. I feel out of control for most of my day, even with a schedule. You made me depend on you, Warden.”

Her words bite, covered in acid and hurt, and I feel heat crawl up my neck and settle behind my eyes.

“I can barely let the Trio in, because everyone finds a way to disappoint me. It’s simply a matter of time. I was excited to see you… and a little worried. You’re over here treating me like normal, and not a damn thing is typical about us. I can’t do this,” she says sadly. “I’d rather muddle through alone, graduate, and move on. I can handle the odd affection from the Trio, because they’re honest with me. But you…”

Grabbing her arm, I whirl her around. Silla’s hair flies as she turns, her cheeks stained with tears, and her chest heaves with suppressed sobs.

“I’m what?” I ask, equally horrified and in awe of these big emotions. She hides so much, holds so much control usually, I want her to continue to break, so that I can help put her back together.

“You made me want to depend on you,” Silla screams, pulling away from me. “Isaac and you… pretty fucking words, but that’s all. I get sick, and all bets are off. Here’s your newsflash, Warden: I have chronic and severe anxiety, I will never be normal, and something will always manage to set me off. I’ll forget to eat, I’ll retreat from the world, and I’ll mask my feelings for something lighter than the darkness in my thoughts. It’ll never change. Don’t make me depend on you if you’re going to disappear. Don’t find me an alternative to a problem I’m having if you’re not going to see it through. Just don’t…”

Silla wraps her arms around herself, and I see how selfish I’ve been. I did insist on being there for her, as did Isaac, which is why we’re both in the doghouse. Her emotions are running high, nose is running, and I still see the strongest, most beautiful woman in the world.

“I’m an asshole,” I murmur, rubbing my thumb under her eye to catch a tear. Sucking it into my mouth, I revel in the salty sweetness, because it’s my reminder to do better. I can’t disappear the way I do with Isaac, because it’s different. That bastard will track me down, while Silla will avoid me because my very presence hurts her. “Baby, I’m so damn sorry.”

Dropping to my knees, I wrap my arms around her waist, laying my head on her chest. I don’t have a problem groveling when I fuck up. “I did all of that and more. I went to visit you, but it doesn’t count because you weren’t awake to see it. I asked Sidney and Ayden about how you were doing, instead of tracking you down to see for myself. I want to say it was all because of work shit and boundaries of FRC, but the truth is I was worried you’d reject me. Seeing your sad eyes as you tell me to go away kills me,” I tell her, shuddering as her fingers hesitantly brush my curls.

Silla’s heart is racing under my cheek, and her breasts make the perfect pillows. My cock hasn’t settled down this entire time, and I struggle to ignore it.

“If I’m such a shithead, then why are you still here?” I ask, looking up at her.

“Because you’re a shithead who apologizes,” she says softly, her sea green eyes still glittering with unshed tears. “Do better, Gray.”

“Thank the Gods,” I breathe, straightening to stare down at her. I want to kiss her so badly, but instead I lay my forehead against hers, rubbing her sides.

Now that I’m touching her, I can feel where those six pounds filled her out. Silla’s hips are thinning out as well, making me grunt in frustration. I want her to be healthy, but her horrible period and lack of support at meals made that impossible.

“Do you feel any better?” I ask, knowing she’s unsettled. I can feel her body vibrating with anxiety.

“No.” Silla sighs. “I doubt anything can do that.”