"I brought some burnt bread," Jarrett said, a tray in his hands. He kicked the door shut behind him. "Fotia was playing and hit a loaf of bread with some dragonfire. It's actually quite tasty."
Tressa offered a smile. Food wasn't her friend, though she hadn't stopped trying to eat. She couldn't live without food, so she'd keep trying until it stayed where it was supposed to. With a shaky hand, she reached out for the burnt bread. She took a small nibble and swallowed. When the nausea didn't come, she took another bite. And another.
Jarrett sat next to her on the bed. He cupped her chin in his hand and stared her in the eyes. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. "Find what you're looking for?" she asked him, her mouth filled with breadcrumbs.
Jarrett kissed the tip of her nose. "Everything I need is right here." The concerned look on his face melted into a smile. "There is someone who wants to talk to you. And I think it's time, if you're feeling up to it."
Tressa nodded. Jarrett didn't even have to tell her who it was. Bastian. "It's fine. Do you mind leaving us alone?"
"Of course not. I was going to suggest that anyway." He ran a hand over Tressa's hair. "Just don't get yourself too worked up, okay? You're not quite back to your strong self yet."
It was an understatement. Tressa had barely felt human the last few days. The burnt bread was helping though. It didn't land in her stomach like a brick the way the rest of the food had.
Jarrett left, and a few moments later Bastian entered. He hung back at the doorway. Tressa motioned him over to the bed, patting the empty spot next to her. "Come, sit."
Bastian sat so close to the edge of the mattress that the slightest bounce would knock him off. Had she hurt him so badly? Had he really not seen the end coming or even moved on himself? It had been many moons since they were last together. She'd grown and changed. Hadn't he?
Tressa reached out for his hand. She hadn't forgotten how her hand fit neatly into his. She'd always believed they were perfectly matched, the way her fingers slipped neatly between his. Comfortable. Easy. But the spark was gone. Tressa looked up at Bastian, knowing she should say something. She didn't know how to start.
Bastian looked just as grim. He squeezed her hand. "Do you remember all those times we would hold hands in secret? Knowing we weren't supposed to, but taking the chance no one would see us?"
"We never got caught," Tressa said, a smile at the corner of her lips.
"Connor was always watching out for us," Bastian said. He glanced out the window, then back at Tressa.
Tressa knew he was thinking how much Connor had changed. How much all of them had changed. "Now that we've grown up, we have to watch out for ourselves. And we've made new friends."
"Jarrett," Bastian said. His eyes narrowed and his lips went thin.
So he didn't approve. Tressa shouldn't have been surprised. "And Elinor," Tressa softly reminded him. "I hear she's saved you twice." She watched for a glimmer in his eyes. He remained slumped, a little reluctant. If he had feelings for Elinor, Tressa couldn't see it.
"She has. She's a good woman," Bastian said. "I'm not here to discuss Elinor with you."
Tressa nodded, waiting for the inevitable questions. Why? And when? She wished she knew the answers. She wouldn't lie to him to make him feel better.
"The last time we were together, in the forest with our parents, things were good between us. I wanted to ask if you're okay.” Bastian rubbed her hand with his thumb. He took a deep breath. “All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy."
Knowing Bastian, he was probably happy he'd gotten it out without too much trouble. He was never verbose and expressing his feelings wasn't easy. Tressa knew that. She'd never been one of those women to complain about her man not communicating. It came easy to some. With Bastian, it didn't.
Tressa laughed a little. "Happy? I don't know if that's a good word to describe me now. Content? Yes. Hopeful? Yes." She coughed, a burn tickling in her chest. "As for us..." The words stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell him about the miscarriage, but one look in his green eyes told her it was a bad idea.
Why burden him with the loss of yet another baby? He'd grieved along with her when she never conceived the babies they so longed for. Now she'd not only have to tell him she'd lost another, but that she suspected Granna had been the one keeping them from getting pregnant the whole time.
No, she'd hurt him enough by breaking off their relationship. This was one thing she'd keep between herself and Jarrett.
"As for us, I'm sorry." She slipped from his grasp and wrung her hands. "If we’d stayed in Hutton's Bridge, we might have found our way back to each other. But here, in this new world, we don't make as much sense as we used to."