Jenna’s face is now red and she’s laughing really hard—so hard that her eyes are watering like she’s crying. I know that she’s not sad, though.
Mia gives her a look. “You okay?”
All Jenna does is nod. Now Adam is laughing as he’s watching Jenna. “Well, I’d tell you to ‘carry on,’ but Liam might come after me with another sword.”
“I think it’s a good idea to keep your mouth shut,” I warn, pointing to my old steel sword that is hanging on the wall for decoration.
Adam looks up at the ceiling for a moment, like he does when he doesn’t know what to say to me. “Okay, Liam. See you at work tomorrow. Bye, Jenna.” He turns and leaves, moving around Mia, who just stares at us with wide eyes.
“Well, I missed whatever that was, but just wanted to say goodbye and I’m cheering for you, William. I know your big duel is next weekend, and I’m not going to be able to make our breakfast date this week since I have that exam coming up.”
I nod, troubled by the change in plans. “Okay. Text me later, then.”
Mia is looking at Jenna now, who has finally recovered. The two of them seem to be communicating without speaking. Mia sends her a look and Jenna returns it, shaking her head, but suddenly the smile slides off her beautiful face and it actually transforms into a frown. I glance at Mia, who now actually looks upset or angry—those look just about the same on Mia. And suddenly I’m annoyed at her. Whatever she did made Jenna upset, and that bothers me.
For the hundredth time, I really wish I could read faces. “Well, bye now.” Mia steps back.
“Yeah, bye,” Jenna says, looking at me and then turning away from the door to study the figurines again. With that, Mia is gone.
I turn back to her and she’s fiddling with the figurines, but I get the feeling she’s not really looking at them. “What happened? Are you and Mia angry with each other?”
She looks at me and her brows rise. “No…no. It’s just…” She shakes her head and then shrugs. “It’s nothing to worry about, William. In a month, it won’t even matter…” Her voice trails off and she frowns.
I clench my jaw, unhappy to be reminded—again—that she’s going away. I turn and gather my old dice and throw them into the felt bag, then open the drawer to toss them back in.
“What’s all that?” she asks over my shoulder.
I glance down to see that the drawer is full of sealed envelopes of different colors. Each one of them is addressed to me in familiar handwriting. I freeze. I really don’t want to talk about this right now—or ever.
She bends closer. “Those envelopes are all sealed. You never opened them.”
I shrug before slamming the drawer shut. “I never wanted to open them.”
“What are they? Who are they from? If you don’t mind me asking…”
My heart is racing and my stomach feels sick. “They’re birthday cards, and they’re from my mother.”
“And you’ve never opened them?”
My fists clench and relax at my sides. “My mother and I didn’t have a good relationship.” I turn away from the dresser.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
There’s a long silence. I shove my hands in my pockets, unable to think of a thing to say. Jenna moves close to me and firmly places a hand on my upper arm. “It’s okay. We all have problematic parental relationships.”
“Had. My mother died five years ago, when I was twenty-one.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? You weren’t responsible.”
She shrugs. “It’s just a thing people say. I’m sorry for your loss.”
I frown, thinking about that. I wonder why I never knew that before.
All I can remember is her voice in my head. Her disapproving voice telling me she had no idea what to do with me, no idea how to even relate to me. What mother tells her child that?
My chest is tight and it’s difficult to breathe. I refuse to let this overtake me.
To let talk of this—of her—ruin my moment with Jenna. Or has it already been ruined?
Chapter 25
Jenna
I had no idea what to say or if he even needed comforting. His lips were pressed tightly together and the muscles in his powerful arm were tense, like coiled springs.
“Wil. Maybe you should talk about it.”
He jerked away from me suddenly and it took my breath away. He ran a hand through his dark hair over and over again until it was sticking up on the sides. But as he’d have to squeeze around me to get out from behind the worktable, I had him trapped. He rocked from one leg to the other instead.