Benicio was watching her—not with accusation, neither with demand. Just a quiet sort of patience that made Sarah's chest tighten.
She scratched her neck, and cleared throat—still looking anywhere but at him. If it were not for the war erupting inside him, Benicio would have chuckled at how hilarious she looked. Every humor was lost on him at that point.
His heart was in pain.
Sarah finally summoned the courage to look at her best friend. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words failed her. She looked down, her fingers twisting around each other, awkward and unsure. The silence stretched between them, dense and fragile.
Then, just as the discomfort threatened to consume her, Benicio as always came to her rescue despite his splintering heart. He gave a soft, hal
