The aftermath of our argument still lingered like a heavy cloud, hanging over both Dante and I. Even though he had tried to make amends in his own awkward way, something remained unresolved. I could still feel the sting of his words from that night, and it made every interaction between us feel cautious, guarded.
The next morning, I found Dante in the kitchen making breakfast. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes filled the air. I hesitated at the doorway, unsure whether to join him or pretend I hadn't seen him.
He noticed me before I could decide. "Good morning," he greeted without looking up from the pan.
"Morning," I mumbled back. I went to make tea, deliberately focusing on the kettle to avoid his gaze. When the pancakes were ready, he set a plate on the counter in front of me without saying a word. It was a quiet offering—one that I wasn't sure how to take.
As we ate in silence, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. Dante looked tired, like he hadn't slept much. Maybe the argument had weighed on him as much as it did on me. I wanted to ask, but my ego wouldn't let me.
Just as I was about to break the silence, Dante's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then declined the call. I caught a glimpse of the name: Gilbert. His best friend. I wondered why he declined the call, maybe he wasn't just in the mood to talk.
"I have to go into the office today," he said, his tone carefully neutral.
"Alright," I replied, trying not to sound affected. "I'll be home if you need anything."
He nodded but didn't say more before leaving. As the door closed behind him, I couldn't help but feel that familiar surge of insecurity. Why did it feel like I was constantly questioning my place in his life?
I decided to clear my head with a walk to the park. Fresh air always helped me think, and I needed a break from the house and Dante's complicated presence. As I reached the park, I spotted a young man struggling with his dog's leash. The dog—a Siberian husky—was far too excited for its owner to handle.
"Need some help?" I offered, smiling.
He looked at me with grateful eyes. It was then I recognized the young man, Noah. "Yes, please! Smart here thinks he's in a race."
We both laughed as I helped calm the dog and we ended up chatting as Smart finally settled down. Noah was friendly, easy to talk to, and surprisingly thoughtful. It was refreshing to be around someone so carefree.
"You're not from around here, are you?" Noah asked, tilting his head.
"Is it that obvious?" I replied, chuckling.
"A bit. You seem... new. Like you're trying to figure out the rhythm of this place."
I shrugged. "Not really new but something like that."
"By the way, I'm really sorry for what happened the other day at my house, Dante can be a handful sometimes," I said, wanting to get it off my chest.
Our conversation lasted longer than I expected. It felt good to talk to someone without the usual tension I'd been drowning in. I took a deep breath and spending time out was helpful, it didn't fulfill the purpose of distracting me like I hoped it would.
Noah glanced at me with a thoughtful expression. "You okay? You seem... distracted.
I hesitated. I wasn't used to opening up to strangers, but something about Noah's genuine concern made me feel safe. "It's just... complicated. You know when you're trying to figure something out, but it ends up getting even more complicated than it originally was?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get that. Sometimes life's just like that. But if you don't mind me asking, does it have to do with. your husband?"
My heart skipped a beat. I wasn't sure how to explain Dante without giving away too much. "Sort of. He's... complicated too."
Noah gave a small, understanding smile. "Complicated how? Like, he's hard to read?"
I bit my lip. "Exactly. One moment he's caring and thoughtful, and the next he's acting like nothing matters. It's like he's pushing me away even when he's the one who pulls me close."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like he's confused, or maybe scared."
"Scared?"
"Yeah. Some people don't know how to handle their feelings, so they keep people at arm's length. It's easier than risking getting hurt."
I hadn't thought about it that way. Was Dante scared? It didn't seem possible for someone so confident and self-assured. Yet, there were moments where his guardedness made sense. "Maybe," I murmured. "But it doesn't make it hurt any less."
Noah gave me a gentle nudge. "Hey, you deserve someone who doesn't make you second-guess their feelings. Life's too short to be caught up in someone else's mess."
I Looked down at my hands, his words hitting closer to home than I wanted to admit. "I know. I just... I don't know how to stop caring."
He gave me a soft smile. "Sometimes, caring isn't a choice. But protecting yourself is. Don't lose yourself trying to fix the puzzle of someone else."
The honesty in his words made my eyes sting, and I quickly blinked away the threat of tears. "You're right. It's just hard to remember that sometimes."
Before I could say more, Noah stood up and stretched, looking back at me with a warm smile. "Hey, anytime you need someone to talk to, I'm around. Sometimes it helps to have someone who's not part of the whole mess to just listen."
I gave a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Noah. I might take you up on that."
He nodded before jogging off down the path again, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I Couldn't help but replay his words, wondering if Dante's hot-and-cold behavior really was rooted in fear. The realization that I was allowing myself to be caught in his whirlwind made my stomach twist. Maybe it was time to focus on what I needed instead of constantly trying to decode Dante's actions.