In which I fall in love with my brother's best friend.
*****
"Don't pretend like you don't feel anything." His voice is low, sending shivers down my spine.
"What do you mean?"
"You know damn well what I mean."
"I don't know what you're talking about...
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Waiting for Vaughn to come home feels like torture nowadays.
For the last two nights, I'd fallen asleep again while waiting for him until past midnight. And when I opened my eyes, he'd always been too tired to talk so that I had no chance to ask him about Camila.
In fact, a part of me feels afraid to ask him about her. Like I'm going to lose him the moment I decide to do so.
But now, I know that I have to. Communication is a crucial point in a relationship. Most relationships are broken because of poor or lack of communication. We have to trust each other.
I'm too caught up in my thoughts that I'm startled the moment Vaughn enters my bedroom. As always, he looks tired and seems to be in a sour mood.
2 AM. He's half an hour early compared to yesterday.
Before I can open my mouth to speak, he already strides toward the bathroom, and not long after that, I hear the sound of water. I sigh, hugging my knees on my bed, waiting for him to finish taking a shower.
I watch as he finally steps out of the bathroom and changes into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, making me frown.
Before, he always liked to remain topless when he slept with me. Correction. He loved that both of us were sleeping naked to each other, wrapped in each other's embrace -- which usually led to another lovemaking session at night.
I step down from the bed, approaching him. "Vaughn," comes my whisper, making him turn around with a look that catches me off guard. He's expressionless, even a bit cold. He seems distant, not warm like he used to be. "I know that you're going through something hard right now, and it pains me that you keep it to yourself. Why won't you let me help you, Vaughn? You can always talk to me." I lean to touch his cheek, but surprisingly, he brushes my hand off, as if it burns his skin. A sudden sharp pain strikes my heart.
"There's nothing you can do to help me, Mel," he says. "Just go to bed. I told you not to wait for me." He walks toward the bed without looking at me.
I swallow a lump in my throat. So, I'm such a useless girl here. All this time, he's been helping me, and here I am, unable to do anything.
He sinks into the bed and stares at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. Slowly, I climb onto the bed and lie down beside him.
"Can I ask you something?" I ask, bracing myself.
He doesn't answer. And stupidly, I take that as a yes.
"About your ex-girlfriend--"
"I don't talk about my ex, Mel. Not anymore," he cuts off.
I'm at loss for words. Who is this guy? He used to open up to me about his past and was comfortable about it. That time, I didn't have any doubt when I looked into his eyes. But now, my doubts and insecurities resurface, because he treats me like a stranger. What is it that could make him become such a different person?
