“How long did it take for you to recover?” she asked.
“Nine weeks before I could start training again,” he said, his eyes dimming.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a painful memory,” she said.
“Nah, you good,” he said, his hand mindlessly rubbing her calf. “It should’ve been more like six weeks, but I’d lost a respectable endorsement deal and my manager had dropped me. I was in a bad place.”
“Understandable,” she replied softly. “I’m happy you got through it eventually.”
“It was actually Chuck who helped,” Silas said, a sad smile appearing. “Everyone’s pity was so overwhelming. And just adding to my own self-pitying and anger. I’d worked at Mountaintop, running weekend classes over the years, so Chuck had come to visit me at my place.”
Silas laughed then, actually seeming happy.
“Everyone would enter my house all scared and shit, ask me how I was, then tell me I looked good—I didn’t. But Chuck came in and saw me on the couch, watching TV, and said, ‘Oh.’”
“That’s it?” Raven asked.
“Yup. No sympathetic pats on the back, no gentle encouragement, no tough love. It was just the weight of that ‘oh’—it felt like he was asking me, ‘So this is it for you, huh?’ It felt like something other than resentment to latch on to. It made therapy and physio not feel like a waste of time. It basically made recovery easier.”
Her understanding of the part Mountaintop played in his life deepened.
“Chuck seemed like a great man,” Raven said, swallowing hard. “And I’m sorry for your loss. I don’t think I’ve said that before.”
He responded with a gentle squeeze to her ankle, and they finished their breakfasts with lighter conversation. To Raven, the end of the meal felt like the start of a slow morning where a visit to the farmers’ market would follow, then a leisurely lunch they’d prepare together. But that was a fantasy in her head, so she got up and started clearing the table.
Silas straightened up the general room, repositioning furniture they’d shifted last night.
“Oh, you can just put that on the nightstand,” she told him when he held up some of her crystals that had fallen on the floor.
“It’s amethyst, right?” he said, raising it to the light to study it further. “For calm, peace. And restful sleep.”
“Wait, I didn’t know you were into crystals,” she said, smiling when he started rubbing the stone between his hands.
“I’m not, but I was a little curious after we pulled off that heist at the Crawleys, so I looked into them,” he said with a shrug.
It wasn’t a big deal. Or it shouldn’t have been, but Raven was strangely delighted. She’d had boyfriends who’d never even cared to ask her about her spiritual rituals or interests, let alone research it on their own time. And though intellectually she knew Silas hadn’t looked up crystals specifically for her, she was charmed.
“Okay, I’ll let you get on with your day,” he said once all was cleared.
“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, walking him to the door.
“No problem,” he replied before catching her off guard by giving her the gentlest kiss.
It left her breathless, and she stared after him as he exited.
* * *
“You look rough,” Silas said when Halo opened her front door with one eye closed and hair in disarray. “I got you some breakfast, though.”
“Bless you,” she said, taking the bag he held and waving him inside.
“Can’t stay long, just wanted to drop this off,” he said, following her into the kitchen, where she arranged herself at the breakfast nook amidst a stack of dusty cookbooks and a dried-up bouquet.
“Today’s worth living,” she said when she opened the box holding the cinnamon bun. She then gave him another look from his place against the counter. “You’re wearing the same thing from last night.”
“No, I’m not,” he said quickly.
“Yeah, you are because I remember being bothered by that crease in your T-shirt half the night.”
