Wren stared at Benjamin without breaking eye contact. His piercing gaze felt like a silent threat, a demand for an answer. Benjamin remained silent.
"I see," Wren sighed. "That's how it is. Well, it can't be helped for now."
Wren stood up. Before turning to leave, he told Benjamin that another meal had been prepared and would be brought up soon. "Please try to eat. I really don't want you to get sick." Wren spoke to him with a warmth that felt wrong. It was as if they were still close, as if nothing had changed.
After Wren left the room, Benjamin lay back on his bed. The nausea returned. He couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion, the lack of food, the drugs Wren had used, or his pregnancy.
