Page 90 of What We Don't Say: Part One

“I’ll be there,” Idris says. “Send me the window.”

“I already did.” Garrett’s voice stays mild. “Keep the rest of the day quiet, though. Outings can feel larger to an Omega this close to his heat.”

Sloane’s hand settles over Theo’s. “He’s doing fine.”

“I’m sure he is,” Garrett says. “Still, we don’t want him mistaking a sweet moment for something his body will expect during the harder hours.”

The words land softly. That’s the problem. They don’t crack across the room. They settle, cool and careful, over the glass containers and half-eaten grapes.

Idris’ eyes sharpen. “We’ll handle the rest of the day.”

“Of course,” Garrett says. “Enjoy your lunch.”

The line goes dead.

The silence that follows is too careful. Theo looks down at the table, his thumb pressed against the edge of the lid. He doesn’t pull away from Sloane, but something in his shoulders folds inward.

Sloane squeezes his hand. “He doesn’t get to name what you meant,” he whispers. “You made lunch. We know what that was.”

Theo doesn’t answer. He reaches out and slowly, carefully, begins to put the lids back on the containers, even though Sloane isn’t finished.

Sloane catches the closest lid before Theo can seal it. “Absolutely not. I’m not done.”

Theo blinks at him.

Sloane picks up the second half of his sandwich and takes a huge bite, chewing with stubborn, theatrical determination. Lettuce falls onto his wrist. A smear of mustard catches at the corner of his mouth. Theo stares at him for one fragile second before the tiniest breath leaves him, almost a laugh.

“There he is,” Sloane murmurs, softer now.

Idris reaches for his own container again. “I’m also not finished. The parsley requires respect.”

Theo’s mouth trembles, but he leaves the lids off.

We stay a few more minutes. Not long enough to make the room easy again, but long enough that Theo sees them finish. Sloane eats every bite. Idris steals two more grapes and lets me steal one of his apple slices. I keep my hand close to Theo’s without trapping him, and when he finally starts packing the containers away for real, he does it with less panic in his fingers.

“We should go,” I say, keeping my voice gentle. “I do actually have grading before my afternoon seminar.”

Sloane stands, pulling Theo up with him. He doesn’t let go of Theo’s hand as we walk back to the elevators. The office staff glance over again, but this time I don’t let myself read too much into it. Theo brought lunch. They ate it. That gets to be true even if Garrett’s voice tried to make it smaller.

When we reach the car, Sloane opens Theo’s door and leans in, his forehead resting against Theo’s for a long, silent moment. I stand by the driver’s side, feeling the cool autumn air bite at my skin. Idris stands beside me, his hand moving to the back of my neck, his fingers pressing into the sensitive muscles there.

“Text me when you get back to campus,” Idris says. It isn’t a request, but it’s threaded with care instead of doubt. “I want to know you’re safe in your office.”

“I will,” I promise.

Sloane looks over the roof of the car at me, his eyes dark and shadowed. “I’m coming home early. We’re going to talk about this. All of us. Without the phone.”

I nod because I want to believe him. Because believing him is easier than looking at Theo clutching the thermal bag to his chest like a shield. He doesn’t look at me. He stares out the window, his lips moving silently, as if he’s trying to hold onto a language someone keeps trying to take away from him.

I drive back to Briarwick with the heater on low and the smell of sandwiches still lingering in the car. Turkey, mustard, parsley, apple slices. Proof of an ordinary thing that happened because Theo wanted it to happen. I park in my usual spot and sit for a second before I reach for my phone.

Back at campus. In the office. The lunch was beautiful, Idris. Please tell Theo he did a good job.

I stare at the screen until the little gray bubbles appear.

He knows. And so do you.

I keep the phone in my hand longer than I need to, thumb resting over the words while Theo sits quiet beside me with the empty containers in his lap. Garrett can chill a room from miles away, but he didn’t make the containers empty. Sloane ate every bite. Idris stole the grapes. Theo offered something, and we took it with both hands.