20. Not yet

Alec watched Luka's departure with a lingering suspicion, his gaze sharpening as he tried to piece together this weird hunch. Something about Luka didn't sit right with him. The tension between Alec and Tristan only added to the atmosphere.

Tristan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes avoiding Alec's probing stare. The mood had palpably changed with Alec's arrival, and Tristan seemed to withdraw into himself, becoming more reserved. 

The only thing Tristan was grateful for was that Alec no longer sat by his side. Instead, Alec chose to sit on the other side of the booth, facing him.

"So," Alec began, breaking the silence, "that's your group for the project, huh?"

"Yeah," Tristan replied tersely, his fingers stretching under the table. "Seems like a good group."

Alec studied Tristan's face, searching for any sign of the friend he once knew so well. "You seem different," he remarked cautiously.

Tristan's eyes flickered, a brief flash of uncertainty crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a smile. "People change, Alec," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness.

This is a dangerous territory. It's way too soon - Alec can't find out the truth yet.

Alec leaned back, crossing his arms. "I've noticed," he said pointedly.

The two sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Alec's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and questions, but he held back, reluctant to push Tristan too hard.

Is there a way to reverse this? It's falling apart way too soon.

Finally, Tristan spoke, his voice softer, more vulnerable. "I'm sorry I forgot about our meet-up today," he said, his eyes meeting Alec's. "I've been...distracted." 

This is the right thing to do. Kristina can't afford to cut off Alec, not now. Her only path to Millen would be blocked. And with the tiny progress she has made, she won't be able to stop this - her mother's murder.

Alec's expression softened slightly, his concern for his friend overriding his frustration. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Tristan hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands folded in his lap. "I'm dealing with some stuff," he admitted quietly. This wasn't a lie entirely.

However, this was way out of character for Tristan. Kristina knew that well. Nevertheless, this was the right time to use Alec's fondness for Tristan against him.

Alec reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Tristan's arm. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he said softly.

He stepped right into her trap. 

Tristan bit the inside of his cheek. Kristina knew Alec. She had known him for nearly her entire life, witnessing both the best and the worst. This care won't be eternal. He won't support her when he finds out how she used him, how his dear Tristan is gone, replaced by her. She won't be swayed for the sake of her mother.

Tristan's lips parted, but before he had the chance to trap Alec entirely, his phone buzzed. He opened it. A lone message greeted him. 

'She left.' Tristan tilted his head as he read the message from Anne again.

What does she mean? Who left-

Tristan frowned. Anne meant their mother. Tristan's hand traced his ribcage. The bruise was still there, nowhere near healed. 

He lifted his gaze to look at Alec, who remained silent.

'Father?' - Tristan typed in response.

As the dots on the screen moved, his foot shifted impatiently.

'Drinking.' 

Tristan bit his lip, this wasn't good. He closed his eyes for a second, contemplating. 

"So," Alec interrupted Tristan's train of thought, "as I was saying, you can count on me." 

Tristan smiled, "You know I always do."

Before putting his phone away, Tristan swiftly replied: 'Go out, sleep at a friend's.'

"Let's order something, my treat," Alec smirked, leaning forward.

It didn't take long for Kristina to realize what Tristan did to protect his sister from the abusive household they lived in. He chose to direct all the attention toward himself. To be the center, the target of anger their father harbored in the absence of his wife. Tristan wasn't a coward. Thus, Kristina couldn't be one either.

As they munched on the sweet desserts, Tristan glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late. He set down his fork.

"Don't you like it? It's your favorite," Alec raised a brow.

His sister didn't reply. Tristan could only hope she didn't stay in the house while their father drank himself to unconsciousness. 

Tristan picked up his fork. "It's good," he lied.

Kristina still couldn't move on from her hatred for cakes. 

Tristan swallowed a big bite. "The best I've had in a while."

"That's great," Alec giggled, dump smile plastered on his face.

Unknown to Tristan, he did receive a reply from his sister. A reply he should've read.