I didn't hear their response. I excused myself from the dining room to find the bathroom. ** The tears flowed out of me the moment I closed the bathroom door. I gripped the edges of the sink and stared at my crying self in the mirror. I know I'm insecure. I try to channel it through humor or productive avenues like math. But now it's affecting my relationship. I'm trying to fit inside Luke's world. I won't change who I am for it, but I am trying. Do I blame myself or those who pick on me? I accept that part of the problem is me, but I'm not the reason why Bianca is cruel. I didn't do anything to her except develop a relationship with Luke. Why do people ration out their kindness like it's a finite resource? Kindness can be in endless supply if we want it to be. There was a gentle knock on the door. "Cearra?" I asked. "No," came a male's response, "It's me." Oof. I opened the door and Luke stepped inside. He must have left dinner to come after me. I tried not to think about what the others were thinking. They must assume we're having problems. Luke didn't ask me what's wrong, because he already knew. This bathroom felt so much smaller with the two of us. I felt conscious of how tall her was and how his hands were bigger than mine as he tried to hold me. "I heard what you were saying," I cried, trying to hide my eyes from his view, "But you're so blunt with your words." I covered my eyes and turned away from him so he wouldn't see me cry. I was so embarrassed. He had just told me to be stronger and here I was a crying wreck. How was he so fine with everything while I was in a meltdown? "I know I can be harsh. I'm sorry," he apologized. In real life, it takes time to get over fights. I'm trying, but he's so much better at moving on. I know I've criticized Luke's character in the past and he just took that criticism on the chin. He's worked on himself. There are clear lapses... but I suppose that's the way development works. It's not linear. We're not perfect. I sniffed, "I think there was something nice buried in your words, but it was so hard to hear." "There are so many nice things I want to say to you," he said apologetically, reaching out for me. I kept my head down, not wanting him to see me ugly cry. At this point, who cares? The man's seen me puke and he's still here. He wasn't fighting with me anymore. Seeing me like this was hurting him. He pulled a hand towel from a rail beside the sink and ran the tap water, wetting the towel. His warm fingers gently touched my chin and tilted my head towards him. My puffy eyes stared up at him. The bathroom felt so small with just the two of us inside. He smiled comfortingly and dabbed the wet towel under my eyes. The feeling of his fingers and the damp towel was a relaxing pressure. The strokes calmed me and reduced the blotchiness around my eyes. "Thank you," I exhaled. The pent-up tension inside me gently released. Like a flowing spring, it rolled over me. He lowered his hand and left the towel over the sink. Then he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It was a soft kiss; a tentative kiss that carried emotion behind it but not overstepping the moment. It felt so sensual, like I could taste the longing and restraint. While our faces were still touching, he whispered, "What was that first course? A mouth pleaser?" I couldn't help but smile. I wanted to shove him for making me laugh seconds after crying. But the truth is, I love how Luke can make me laugh at any moment. And he knew it. ** We returned to dinner and Luke pulled my chair out for me to sit down. He then took a seat himself. I tried not to face the prying eyes of our friends along the table and followed Luke's lead. "This looks great," Luke said of the main course, "Sorry for holding everyone up." The chef was standing beside Sir Chadwick Senior and repeated the dish description for us. "Thank you, sir. It's a lamb machboos and we have a legume dish for the lady with vegetarian preferences." We thanked the chef, who returned to the kitchen to prepare the next dish. Then, we dug in and the sound of cutlery clinking against plates followed suite. I enjoyed the silence as everyone focused on the delicious food in front of us. Sir Chadwick Senior asked me, "I hope you're ok, Millie. Austin mentioned you were feeling unwell." Bianca laughed and quickly stopped after Oma nudged her under the table. "I'm feeling better thank you. It's a bit of jet lag," I answered. The last thing I needed was for Chad's dad to be up-to-speed with my personal life. Chad Senior nodded and poured another glass of red wine for himself and his friend. But beside me, Luke called Bianca out. "Did you have something to add, Bianca?" She looked towards him and tried to read his masked expression. "No, no I think jet lag covers it." Luke did not let it go. "Funny that you have an opinion on how Millie feels." Several people on the table bristled at that comment. Luke was so direct sometimes it made it awkward to be a bystander. "This lamb machboos is delicious," Austin commented, scooping another spoonful, "Cooked to perfection." "I agree," I added, trying to dissolve the tension in the air. We didn't need to show this side of us to Roland Chadwick Senior. I've caused enough turmoil on this trip. Bianca made the smart choice to not comment back and we all continued to eat our food. "This group's vibe is messed up," Chad muttered, "I don't know if going out is going to fix it." Going out will not fix it, but interesting to see Chad's solution. "How about we ask Millie and Cearra what they want?" Austin suggested, "The rest of us have all been here before." "Why wouldn't they want to go out?" Chad asked, looking at us for backup. "So why don't you ask them?" Austin glared at Chad. "Is there something I'm missing here?" Chad asked, before looking at me, "Are you still feeling jet lagged?" ** A cheese platter and dessert were carted out as the final courses. Mint tea was served to those who wanted it and Chad was still fixated on hearing what he's been missing out on. As usual, he felt out of the loop. "What is it?" Chad asked Luke and Austin quietly, "Are you still mad that Bianca's here? I haven't seen her do anything wrong." Cearra overheard that and raised her eyebrows at me. I mirrored her expression, glad to hear our boys had at least tried to make this trip more peaceful for us.