Page 27 of Night So Silent
What do I say? That I'd rather stay here on this mountain than go back home? That being trapped in his house is like a breath of air after almost drowning? For the first time, I know what I want to say, but it goes against all logic.
Words are scarce the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. However, the silence is anything but awkward. It’s as though Sergei is enjoying it. I would probably be annoyed by this, but for the first time, the entire situation has me at a loss for words. And I hate this feeling.
Again, I find myself sitting adjacent to him at the table, this time eating some spicy, sour soup that’s so good that I want to mainline it through an IV. Maybe if we’re friends by the end of this venture, he’ll come visit and make an entire freezer full for me. And even if he ends up hating me, maybe I can convince him to just ship me some on dry ice.
Just like last night, Sergei clears away the dishes and goes on with the evening like this is nothing but routine—like my presence is nothing but routine. It’s bothering me that I can’t read him as well as I can other people. I need more information.
So, of course, I text Brett.
ME (8:19PM): OK so what’s Sergei’s story? What kind of women does he date?
BRETT (8:24PM): Are you trying to date Sergei???? I love this for you.
ME (8:25PM): Just gathering intel.
BRETT (8:26PM): Honestly, I don’t know.
ME (8:26PM): Wdym you don’t know????
BRETT (8:27PM): He’s never mentioned any girlfriends.
ME (8:28PM): Anyone?? Ask Colson. Now.
BRETT (8:33PM): Colson said Serg doesn’t do relationships.
ME (8:34PM): So like…just casual flings?
BRETT (8:35PM): Colson said he won’t divulge Serg’s secrets.
ME (8:35PM): Omggggggggggg
What else is new? It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Colson is being so cryptic and unhelpful.
Freaking men.
I toss my phone onto the side table in the bedroom and head for the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I emerge later in pajamas with freshly brushed teeth, Sergei is leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, looking at his phone. I assume he’s just waiting on me to finish in the bathroom.
“Do you need anything?” he asks as he slips his phone back in his pocket and heads for the dresser.
“No, thank you,” I reply softly, still unsure of what to do now that he’s gotten under my skin and I definitely let it show.
“I’m going into work early tomorrow. I need to check the building and the grounds. It may take longer if there are repairs to be dealt with.”
“Oh, are the roads clear?”
“Unlikely. The safest way is by snowmobile.” He shuts the drawer and heads for the bathroom. “I’ll make sure to leave breakfast before I go.”
“Thank you.” I clear my throat. “Everything was really good, by the way.”
Sergei gives a polite nod and disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Again, I’m left alone—inhisroom, inhisbed. I try to continue reading, but I can’t concentrate, glossing over the same paragraph at least three times. It’s not long before he reemerges, dressed in the same cream sweatpants as last night; the ones that made him look like even more of an Arctic god than he already does. I don’t know if there is such a thing, but if there was, he would be it.
He strolls across the room, tossing his clothes into a basket on the floor, and opens the door to leave.
“Sergei,” I call to him before even realizing it.
He stops in the doorway and glances over his shoulder.
“Um, you don’t have to sleep on the sofa tonight.”
