No one was speaking between Augustus and me as we ate in the kitchen. It had been days, and somehow my foot had healed. I could walk again.
"Can you pass me the butter?" he asked.
I silently handed him the butter.
"Thank you," he said, spreading it on his toast, topping it with avocado, and beginning to eat. He quietly chewed, his attention focused on his plate. I glanced at him, waiting for him to say something, to open up. However, he did nothing. His focus remained on his food. He hadn’t looked at me even once since I arrived in the kitchen.
He had prepared lunch for the two of us, and somehow, it was getting awkward.
"Can you pass me the water? I'm kind of thirsty," I tried to break the tension.
He grabbed the pitcher and poured water into a glass without a word, setting it down
