Page 60 of Vows of Silence

Then, without looking at me again, he walked out, slamming and locking the door behind him.

I stared after him for a long time, my heart still racing painfully against my ribs.

What the hell had just happened?

Slowly, I lowered myself back onto the edge of the bed, staring at the destruction scattered around the basement.

And then, despite every logical thought screaming at me not to, my eyes drifted toward the door.

Waiting.

I waited so long, my eyes grew heavy. And eventually, I curled up on my bed, the blankets ripped and destroyed on the floor, and fell into a strangely peaceful sleep.

Hours later, the lock clicked again, and I sat up just in time to see Silas quietly entering.

The first thing I noticed was that I was covered with a fresh, new blanket. The second was that the destruction from earlier had already been cleaned up. Someone else must have done it whilst I slept, because the overturned furniture was back in place and the broken items had disappeared completely.

Silas crossed the room slower now, some of the violent tension from before gone.

He placed a tray of food carefully on the table beside the bed. I watched as he picked up where we had left off. As though today had never happened. As though he hadn’t been absent for God knows how long.

My food, water, my small dosage of painkillers… and something else.

A single red rose.

Not shoved carelessly onto the tray. Positioned carefully inside a small glass cup filled with water.

Glass.

I stared at it in silence.

After my outburst weeks ago, everything he brought me had been plastic. Plates. Bottles. Cups. Every sharp edge removed as punishment for displeasing him.

And now there was glass sitting on the tray.

A reward.

Trust restored.

The thought came to me instantly because by now I understood the way Silas communicated. Everything meant something with him. Every object. Every action. Every tiny adjustment in behaviour.

Slowly, I looked back up at him, and the silver mask tilted slightly in response.

I glanced down at the rose once more before quietly saying, “Thank you.”

The harsh sound of his breathing softened beneath the mask.

It almost sounded like relief.

And for some reason, that felt more intimate than words ever could.

Chapter 21

The Flame

Once again, time seemed to slip away as we fell into a new routine. One that looked like our old one from the outside, but with subtle differences only Silas and I recognised.

He lingered more than he used to. Our interactions were no longer him taking care of my essential needs. Especially now that all of my bruises and cuts were healed.