Page 137 of Graves

He closes the laptop and grabs his jacket without a word.

I wonder if I did something wrong, but since I spent the whole afternoon outside with Pixie, I quickly push the thought away.

On the way to the subway station, Luke is unusually quiet. He keeps checking his phone.

“Everything okay?” I ask, concerned. “Are you expecting a call?”

“Hm…” he just hums.

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief and turn to him. He doesn’t even look at me.

“Are you serious?” I ask, trying to stay calm, so I laugh it off. “I can see something’s wrong.”

“Oh, really?” he snaps.

I flinch. How could I forget he’s allergic to that kind of remark?

“I think you’re the one trying to fuck with me!” he barks, eyes flashing.

His voice has taken on a sharp edge that makes me swallow hard. My pulse shoots from zero to a hundred and my whole body goes into alert mode.

It’s fine, I tell myself. You didn’t do anything wrong. Breathe.

I do exactly that, square my shoulders, and turn away. “I have no idea what crawled up your ass, but don’t take it out on me. If you don’t want to come, just stay here.”

That was good, I praise myself. I stayed calm.

“Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You can tell me what the problem is and we can talk about it.”

“No, I can’t,” he says bitterly. “I’m still waiting for more information.”

“Fine.” Without pursuing it further, I put Pixie in her carrier and head down the stairs to the subway platform.

Luke follows me in silence.

He doesn’t say a single word the entire ride. I’m sure the whole car can feel his bad mood. He keeps looking at his phone and exhales in annoyance every time he puts it away.

He ignores me.

He used to do that a lot—punish me with silence.

The difference from back then is that I usually knew why. It was always something I had done wrong. Some small thing Luke could blow up into a huge deal.

But right now, I have no idea what’s bothering him, and that makes the situation even harder for me. It takes away my control, and that’s bad.

I try to focus on Pixie, who sits peacefully in the carrier under my arm and darts her eyes around. A woman smiles at me and holds out her hand. Pixie sniffs it and licks her fingers. She then waves goodbye and gets off at the next stop.

When I turn to Luke, I get an irritated look in return. He even rolls his eyes and turns away.

I want to get out, away from him, because I already know the evening is going to be a disaster. And I’m about to give Pixie away too.

But I shove the thought and all the bad feelings aside, telling myself everything will sort itself out.

Finally, our stop arrives and we get off.

I’m glad to be back in the West Village. I know my way around here and feel at home. Just being in this neighborhood gives me a sense of stability again.