33. THE REAL REASON

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" You're so brave and quiet I forget you're suffering at times. "

-

AS THE SPOON clicked against the stained porcelain cup, she looked out the window- feeling his eyes on her, but once she looked back at William he pretended nothing had happened.

There were only a few other people in the café, yet none of the two paid very much attention to them.

"William."

With a face, years younger than the eyes he carried, he turned towards her. And in the depths of those eyes was an old soul that somehow managed to find her. Capturing her in a way or another. If it was bad, she had yet to figure it out. Maybe one day, if it indeed was bad, she could be freed from it.

But not that day, for this day, Will had found a way of trapping her once again. This time without even knowing.

"I don't know if I have anything to say," she spoke softly, knowing that there was no point in hiding from him.

He leaned back, narrowing his eyes at her.
"There is always something to say. We just don't know how to."

She eyed him curiously.
If only it was as easy as simply knowing.

"Why did you come back?" she finally asked.

Half of her was curious, and another half just wanted him to confront what she'd been wondering about. But then there's yet another half of her that just wanted to diffuse the suffocating tension that was building in the room.

It was more than a whole, but that's just the way he was, she realizes hopelessly.
His presence consumed her, in a way or another.

"You know why."

"No," she insisted, mustering the last strength and leaning forward, conscious that he was very close now. "Tell me the real reason."

She felt his eyes pouring into hers with the same desperation as she had. Almost begging her to do or say something.

Say something.

Perhaps he was just as scared as she was. Maybe that's why he kept the silence going. A momentary pause, between the time she opened her mouth and when the words came out. Those few seconds felt like eternity.

"Maybe," she started when she understood that he wasn't going to answer. But that was it. There was nothing more to tell him, otherwise, he would know too much. Maybe- that's all. No more or less.

"Just know that I don't mind if you don't want to talk to me-" mumbled Will, but Jo was a bit too quick to stop him from speaking anymore, leaving her to say something he never would forget.


"We don't need to be friends, you know.
Maybe it's better that way."


He blinked and for a second, she feared that her words came out too strongly. Nearly a bit too harsh. Maybe it was the point, though. Perhaps it was her way of showing him that she felt bad too.
That she was in pain.

"Friends?" His voice was stripped away from the courage he usually felt and suddenly there were miles in between them while sitting only inches apart.

 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | | 1917 Where stories live. Discover now