But not everything. Because I can feel it. The weight of Sam's stare on me, steady and unmoving.
Charlie heads toward the kitchen to grab water, giving us space.
I don’t bother dancing around it.
I glance at my brother and sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”
He leans against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on,” I say, adjusting baby Sam in my arms. “I’m sure Will called you the moment he pulled out of my driveway.”
Sam lifts his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “We just want to make sure you’re fine. That’s a lot for anyone to go through. God knows you know how I feel about the internet.”
I force a smile. “I’m totally fine.”
His brow lifts just slightly. “You don’t have to pretend with us.”
“I’m not pretending,” I say, a little too fast. “I’m just not in the mood to be dissected right now.”
He watches me for a beat longer, then nods like he gets it even if he doesn’t.
Charlie reappears with two glasses of water and a softness in her eyes that I’m grateful for. She touches my arm. “You don’t have to talk. We can just sit.”
And that? That’s the kind of love that doesn’t feel like pressure. So I sink into the couch, baby Sam nestled against my chest, and let the quiet settle between us.
But my dumb brother has to ruin the moment by asking, “So, is it serious with Nash?”
I snort. “God, please tell me we’re not doing this.”
“It’s just a question.”
“Yeah? Well, notice how I didn’t ask anything when you and Charlie first got together?”
Sam raises a brow. “So itisserious.”
I groan, adjusting baby Sam in my arms as a shield. “It’s not serious. We went out to eat, then dancing. The photos made it look ten times bigger than it was.”
He watches me, too quiet.
“And the one where he was kissing you the next morning?” he asks, like he’s genuinely trying to keep it neutral.
I shrug. “I’m grown.”
“That you are, little sister.” He exhales, running a hand down his face. “I guess I just feel protective. I keep wondering what Dad would do right now.”
That hits like a gut punch. The tears hit the backs of my eyes before I can stop them.
“Well now you’re making me feel like an asshole,” I murmur, blinking fast. “For the record, I think Dad would do the same thing you’re doing. Even if it annoyed the hell out of me.”
We share a look—equal parts fond and aching.
“Just know that we’re here for you, Phern,” Sam says gently. “Will, too. He was worried when those photos hit.”
I cringe at the mention of Will’s name.
But I keep my voice even. “I know you’re here. And I appreciate it. Really.”
Sam nods, and the room falls quiet again for a breath.
