7.
710 Words
Maggie
The house feels different without Ana and Nate in it. Too still. Too heavy. I towel my hair dry as I pad barefoot down the hallway, the faint smell of chlorine clinging to my skin. I should go straight to Ana’s room, curl up with my phone, and pretend the whole world doesn’t exist. But my stomach growls, and I know I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t eat something.
The kitchen light is on.
David is there again. I think he came straight to the kitchen after he left the pool a while back. He's leaning against the counter with a Bible open beside him, though he’s not reading it. His hand rests on the page like he’s been staring at the words for hours without letting them sink in. When he looks up and sees me, he straightens, almost like he’s not expecting me to show up.
“Hungry?” he asks, voice calm but a little rough around the edges.
“Yeah,” I say, moving toward the fridge. “Didn’t eat much earlier.”
“There’s pasta left. I’ll heat it up.”
“I can do it,” I reply quickly, but he’s already reaching for the container.
I hover awkwardly as he works the microwave, sleeves rolled up, hair still mussed from earlier. He looks tired, older than usual, but there’s something steady about him too. Like even when everything else is falling apart, he’s determined to hold the line.
When he sets the bowl in front of me, I mumble thanks and sit at the counter. He doesn’t leave. He sits across from me, folding his hands together like he’s bracing himself for something.
“You swim often?” he asks.
“Sometimes,” I say, twirling the pasta around my fork. “Helps me think.”
“Or stop thinking,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
I glance up. His eyes are on me, steady, searching. For a second, I forget how to breathe.
The silence stretches, and I feel it pressing against my skin. I want to look away, but I don’t. I can’t.
Then he clears his throat and leans back, as if physically pulling himself out of the moment. “You should eat before it gets cold.”
I drop my gaze to the bowl, my cheeks feeling warmer than usual.
We eat in near silence, the clink of cutlery against plates louder than it should be. I try to focus on the food, but my mind keeps on picturing myself kissing David. I wonder if he notices how tense I am. I wonder if he feels it too.
He doesn’t say anything else, and I’m grateful. The silence between us is a bit awkward, but not uncomfortable. Just… cautious.
When I’m done, I thank him softly and excuse myself. He nods, not pressing for conversation, and I’m grateful because I suck at hiding my feelings and I'm afraid he'll figure me out the longer I stay.
Back in Ana’s room, I flop onto the bed and grab my phone. The screen lights up with no new messages, so I scroll for her contact and hit call.
She picks up on the second ring.
“Sup dude?”
“Hey. You guys okay?” I ask, worried.
There’s silence in the background. Then Ana sighs. “We’re fine. Just… Nate’s being Nate, you know?”
I bite my lip. “Where are you?”
“At the beach. He needed to vent, clear his head. And I didn’t want him going alone, so,”
"Yeah, I get that." I close my eyes, pressing the phone tighter to my ear. “Is he calm now?”
"Yeah, I think,” she says, her voice dropping. “At least he’s not yelling anymore.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. “Okay, um, come back soon.”
There’s a pause, then she adds, “Don’t worry about us, Mag. We’ll be back soon. Just get some rest, okay?”
“Alright,” I whisper. “See ya.”
“Definitely.”
I set the phone down and curl onto my side, listening to the quiet hum of the house. For now, that’s all I can do.
- Writer
