19. Word by Word

After breakfast the following day, I felt a familiar wave of disappointment. The meal was bland and uninspiring. Simple dishes designed for those in recovery. I wasn't sure how people were supposed to regain their strength by eating this kind of food.

The watery oatmeal and dry toast seemed like a punishment rather than sustenance.

I was picking at a piece of toast, wondering if I could choke it down, when the door opened, and Nick walked in. He had a bag tucked under his arm, his usual silent demeanor intact.

Without a word, he placed the bag on the table in front of me, giving me a quick nod before sitting down.

As usual, he was a man of few words, and I was beginning to really appreciate this part of him. He wasn't overbearing like some of the other guys, and you didn't have to guess at his intentions... just pay attention to his actions.

The bag smelled sweet, like sugar and vanilla. I almost attacked it, pulling out the cookies and slices of cake from last night's dinner.