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The two of them had been alternating conversation starters for the past fifteen minutes, but me and Kaden were like a soggy pile of wood that wouldn’t light. The only thing we were good for was smoking up the joint and making the place unlivable.

Another few minutes of silence dragged out. Luisca and Tiber seemed to have finally given up, as we all ate in silence.

Marina was looking at me from across the table, and I could see something brewing in that little head of hers. She turned her attention to Kaden.

“Why did you leave the morning after the esposmata?” she said, asking the one thing everyone was thinking, but no one would utter.

Luisca and Tiber were sitting there, looking like they’d just gotten smacked unexpectedly. They turned to each other as if they weren’t sure if they should try to shut her up, or if making a fuss would cause more damage.

“I had some off-world matters that had to be handled.” Kaden saved them the difficult choice of having to intervene.

There was a lapse of a couple of seconds, just long enough to lull everyone into a false sense of security, before Marina spoke again.

“Do you know they’re saying you don’t actually like Billie because you left?” she said, and this time there was a definite edge in her little voice.

Even her older sister was gaping.

I dropped my head, wishing I was anywhere but at this table. It was bad enough to have heard them myself. Now to sit here and hash it out at dinner…

Luisca reached out to her littlest. “Marina, that’s not—”

“Who is saying that?” Kaden asked.

“Everyone. They all say you must not really want her. That she was a waste of a mark.” Again, there was an edge to Marina’s voice, as if she was taking the slight to me as a personal offense, and clearly putting the blame on Kaden.

“Well, it’s not true,” he said. “I left because there were some things that had to be handled. If Billie had needed me to stay, I would’ve.”

I could feel Kaden’s gaze on me but kept my attention on my plate.

No one tried to talk for the rest of dinner, and I was finding a new appreciation for silence. It was certainly better than the conversation up until this point. I choked down Luisca’s savory meat like I was chewing on wet cardboard, anything to be done with this night. Tiber and Luisca seemed to be taking really large bites as well.

I slipped out as fast as I could, retreating to the bedroom instead of relaxing in the living room with everyone else. When Kaden walked into the bedroom a few minutes later, I was already in bed with the lights out.

“I’m going to the lake,” he said, his eyes glued to my form.

I didn’t answer.

“Do you want to come?” He didn’t move from his spot, waiting there silently,

“No. I went with Luisca.”

“What about your back?”

“I was careful to avoid getting it wet.”

He stood there for another few moments. I didn’t know if he was debating on looking at my back or talking to me. I didn’t want to talk. The dinner had left me raw to the bone. The only thing appealing at the moment was a dark room, all to myself.

He finally left, giving me what I craved—not that it helped. Instead of feeling peace, all I did was think about everything that had happened, pretty much from birth to now, checking off every mistake along the way. There were too many to keep track of, but the worst ones still haunted me, and would probably haunt me until the day I died.

I was still awake when Kaden returned, although my eyes were closed as I waited for sleep to hopefully take me. He climbed into bed, and I could feel his eyes on me as I lay there.

“If I’d had any idea what was going to happen, I wouldn’t have left,” he said.

“I’m sure.” I turned on my other side, not wanting to discuss it, hoping my quick agreement would end any need for further discussion. Whether I believed him didn’t matter. He hadn’twantedto stay. Even if it was a fake ceremony, leaving the day after had left an ache, almost as if our relationship were real.

“After that night, I thought you’d want some space as well.” His voice was low, as if he hadn’t wanted to bring up that evening at all, the intimacy of it, but felt somehow compelled.

I hadn’t been the one who’d needed space, he had, but pointing that out would only prolong this conversation. I’d rather he lay it all on my doorstep than continue to talk.