Chapter 21 Awkwardness
After we finished eating, Rudy and I just sat there, looking at each other awkwardly. The silence wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable either, it was heavy, layered with thoughts I didn’t want to articulate. I couldn’t even explain what I was feeling right now. So many thoughts ran through my mind that my head felt stuffed with them, yet none of them seemed to form a coherent pattern. In the end, I just shook my head lightly, trying to discard every possibility. After all… Rudy was my stepbrother. A wave of reality washed over me, and I pushed everything else aside. There was no way, no possibility, to entertain those other, sillier thoughts.
Just then, the female waiter returned. She held a small piece of paper in her hand, extending it slightly toward us. “Who will be paying the bill?” she asked politely, her tone soft yet formal, like she’d been trained to treat every customer with the same impeccable manners.
Rudy waved the paper away. “I’m the one paying. Don’t bother handing me any paper. Just tell me the total.”
The waiter’s eyes flickered briefly at him before she spoke. “Your bill comes to seventy-one thousand six hundred dollars.”
I felt my jaw drop. My mouth opened wide, and I stared at her in disbelief. Seventy-one thousand six hundred dollars? Even for people like us, for whom spending that amount wasn’t exactly life-altering, this felt absurd. My brain froze as I tried to process the number. Ten to twenty thousand would have been reasonable and luxurious, but within the bounds of plausibility. But seventy-one thousand? This wasn’t just luxurious. This was a display of wealth that bordered on outrageous.
I couldn’t help but recall my father, back when he was alive. He was wealthy, certainly, but calculative. Every dollar spent had a purpose. Every investment was weighed carefully. Even when it came to enjoyment, he rarely indulged himself without reason. He always said wealth came from hard work or from blood money, as he called it, and that every cent had a story, a cost, and a value. His sense of responsibility had been drilled into me, and this moment made me realize just how different our approach to money could be.
I looked at Rudy, who was completely unfazed. He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and the payment was done, no hesitation, no grimace, no flinching at the sheer size of the number. The bill disappeared from the waiter’s hand as casually as a puff of smoke. He then stood, brushing his hands off. “Alright, we’re done here. Let’s go.”
We left the restaurant together, stepping into the sleek vehicle waiting outside. The driver, as silent as ever, started the car without a word, gliding us away from the bustling city streets in absolute quiet. I stared out the window, tracing the neon reflections of the city lights on the glass, while Rudy leaned back in his seat, watching me curiously.
Then, suddenly, he cleared his throat, a small cough, meant to draw my attention without breaking the calm. I turned slightly toward him.
“I know you didn’t really enjoy the restaurant,” he said softly, almost apologetically. “I… I was wrong for not asking your opinion before picking where to go.”
I shook my head and smiled lightly. “It’s fine,” I said honestly. “Even though I didn’t enjoy the food, what you did made me really happy. I got to see… the lifestyle of ultra-rich people, and that’s something I never would have experienced otherwise. It was… fascinating.”
Rudy chuckled, a low, easy sound that made the air between us feel slightly warmer. “I could do anything for you, you know,” he said. His voice dropped into something softer, more sincere. “I just… thought you’d appreciate it, but I guess I realized something. When taking a woman out…” He paused for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “…I’ll take you somewhere nicer next time.”
I blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected confession. My mind raced, wondering how much he really meant what he said, how much of it was casual and how much was sincere. Then, almost impulsively, I asked the question that had been lingering in the back of my mind: “Have you… never had a girlfriend?”
Rudy’s expression changed slightly, shifting from the casual ease he always carried to something more thoughtful, tinged with embarrassment. “Actually… I’ve never had a girlfriend,” he admitted, his eyes glancing away from mine for a moment. “I… I’ve only ever paid for escort girls before. To… relieve some pressure, I guess.”
The words were spoken so matter-of-factly that it took me a second to process them. The air felt heavier, charged with a mix of honesty, vulnerability, and subtle shame. He quickly added, in a tone that suggested he was almost apologizing for the confession, “I… I don’t really like to talk about it.”
I didn’t respond immediately. The city lights outside blurred past the glass, streaking across the interior of the car like liquid gold. I tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn’t sound judgmental, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I picked at the edge of my sleeve, pretending to be busy while listening to the quiet hum of the engine.
Rudy’s hand rested on his lap, his fingers tapping lightly against each other. He seemed equally unsure, the usual confidence replaced by a subtle, awkward hesitation. It was rare to see him like this, stripped of his usual bravado and unbothered demeanor. For the first time, I felt as though I was seeing him, not just a confident stepbrother, but Rudy, the person beneath the surface.
We drove in silence after that. Not the tense, awkward silence from earlier, but a softer, contemplative one. It felt like something unspoken had shifted between us, though I couldn’t define it yet. My thoughts circled the events of the evening—the extravagant meal, the absurd bill, Rudy’s quiet confession, and the strange ease with which he paid for it all. Somehow, it all combined into a peculiar mix of fascination, admiration, and… something else I couldn’t name.
By the time we neared home, the city had settled into its night rhythm. The traffic lights glowed red, yellow, and green, casting their reflections across the car interior. I stole a glance at Rudy, who was staring straight ahead, his expression calm again, though a faint smile lingered at the corner of his lips.
“Thanks for tonight,” I said quietly, finally breaking the silence. “I… I really appreciate it. For everything.”
He glanced at me then, his eyes softening, and nodded. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice low but sincere.
For the rest of the ride, we didn’t speak.