Similarly to Alicia, Kattar had seen some signs that Alicia liked him as well, but unlike Alicia, he didn't try to ignore the signs, but rather was convinced he must have been reading into things, and he didn't want to make things awkward, so he didn't acknowledge them. (because why would a girl who idolized his mom so much want anything to do with men?) So he kind of just waited to see if she would say something and never intended to admit to his feelings if she didn't (though he didn't succeed at that, he managed to last 15 years, which is seriously impressive.)
“Viejo,” I say slowly, despite the voice in my head telling me to stop - telling me it’s better not to know - “How long has it been?”
He looks up hesitantly, flushed and pale at the same time, meeting my gaze with an unsteady, sheepish smile.
“Fifteen years.”
He speaks like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, looking back down at the blankets lighting fast.
I cringe.
I hadn’t even imagined it was that long.
“You fell for that ratty little kid in hand-me-downs while your mother had you dressed like a junior model…?”
He doesn’t budge, staring at the blankets like his life depends on it.
The surprise and bafflement subsides into confusion and concern, as I watch the torrent of torment in his expression, his pale face changing colors from white to blood red.
“Why didn’t you say something…?”
He tries to laugh, but the sound is fragile-
“Maybe I had pretty boy syndrome and wanted to hear you say it first, cuz you were the only one who never did.”