Every Word Unspoken

Damon Compton sighed. "I'll just go buy them again."

Kendra Dougherty quickly shook her head, looking almost embarrassed to ask for anything. "Don't go to all that trouble. Cookies from anywhere are fine."

But Damon had already grabbed his car keys and headed out.

I stared blankly at his retreating figure.

The bakery was an hour away by subway, and with the holiday approaching, traffic would only be worse.

When I'd asked him earlier if he could take me there, he'd complained that it was too much trouble and said there was no need to go so far.

Just then, a vibration from our group chat interrupted my thoughts.

Kendra sent him a reminder: [You're passing the cafe on your way back, right? Could you pick up two drinks for me and Meredith while you're at it?]

Damon replied almost immediately: [What do you two want?]

[Anything is fine.]

Damon replied: [Okay.]

It wasn't until an hour later that he realized I still hadn't answered.

[@Meredith Valentine, stop overthinking it and hurry up. Tell me already.]

I scrolled up, copied Kendra's reply, "Anything is fine," and pasted it into the chat.

No one said another word.

I looked at Kendra sitting on the couch. Half a month ago, she'd said her lease was up and asked to stay with us for a few days to make her commute easier.

But the days had dragged on, and there was still no sign of the new place she'd supposedly found.

When Damon returned, Kendra's excited voice nearly pierced my eardrums.

"How did you know I wanted this one? It even comes with a collaboration and exclusive merchandise!"

I looked at the coffee in her hand and the limited-edition collaboration fridge magnet. All I'd gotten was an iced tea from a buy-one-get-one deal.

I didn't take it.

Damon frowned without meaning to. "What's wrong now?"

"You forgot? I just had surgery. I can't drink anything cold right now."

His expression faltered. "You didn't make that clear."

I opened our group chat and scrolled between my reply and Kendra's, showing him the messages. "She didn't say what she wanted either."

He stared at me for two seconds, then suddenly laughed. "Are you upset over something this small? If you want one, I'll get it for you tomorrow. Next time, just specify exactly what you want."

When Kendra said the same thing, he could decipher her meaning in a second and anticipate her every need. With me, he couldn't even be bothered to ask or guess.

Damon reached for my hand. "All right. I bought the cookies for your parents, too."

I picked up one of the boxes of molten chocolate lava cookies. They were my mother's favorite.

When I'd gone shopping earlier, the shelves for that brand had already been cleared out. I'd even complained to Damon about it while we were checking out.

I hadn't expected him to remember.

I took a deep breath.

I was just about to ask what time we were leaving for home tomorrow. We'd agreed that while we were back, we'd discuss the wedding date.

But Kendra eagerly leaned over, eyeing the gift boxes with an indecisive expression. "You bought eight different flavors! How am I supposed to choose?"

My heart tightened.

Before I could react, Damon had already reached for the cookies. "If you like them, just take them all. Besides, your family has so many relatives and friends. They'll come in handy."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Weren't those for my parents?"

"Your parents aren't picky. Three boxes of salted caramel cookies will be enough."

A sharp ache rose in my throat.

Last year, I'd picked out cookie gift boxes for Thanksgiving, only to discover after I got home that Damon had switched them and given them to Kendra instead.

His excuse had been exactly the same. "Stop making such a big deal out of everything. It's not like your parents can tell the difference anyway."

What he didn't know was that the cheap, unregulated products Kendra had bought had left my parents vomiting for three days.

If my younger brother, Yohan Valentine, hadn't gone out of his way to tell me a couple of days ago, I never would have known.

When I refused to let go of the boxes, Damon pulled harder. His voice grew impatient. "It's just a box of cookies. Is it really worth fighting over?"

The handles dug into my palm until the skin turned red.

I let go, then smiled along with him. "It isn't worth it."

A relationship like this wasn't worth it.