It felt ironic that my tragic past empowered me because it made him so uncomfortable. He'd for sure think he'd shoved both feet nice and deep into his mouth now. “She's dead too." I brought my attention back at my soup and stirred. “She passed a couple of years ago."
“Well, s**t," he said, sounding so oddly defeated a soft laugh escaped me. Though looking up at him and meeting those eyes brought me down a notch again.
“Don't worry about it, really. I'm just sorry my life is such a downer." I never would have thought I'd be making light of this—my situation—my sister being dead. But he wore the most painfully uncomfortable expression on his face it was almost comical, and I couldn't help laughing.
“No, no," he said quickly. “That's not what I meant. I just me—"
“You're just making small
