“Alex. I know.”
Her name sat heavy in the air. She went perfectly still, her fingers freezing against the fabric. When she looked up, her eyes held that same carefully neutral expression I’d seen before—professional, distant, protected.
“I saw the diploma in your office,” I continued my confession. “Enzo told me not to say anything.”
Her voice was flat. “And now?”
“I can’t stand having it between us,” I rubbed my palms against my jeans. “Especially after tonight.”
She sat up, crossing her legs on the bed and studying me. “You said you didn’t like Alex.”
“I said Alex was a tight ass who flew in to boss everyone around.” Heat crept up my neck. “I was an idiot. I was jealous of some guy I’d never met because Dom talked about him all the time, and you were always defending him, and I thought—” I stopped, shaking my head. “I was wrong about everything. I’m sorry.”
Her detached expression slipped, revealing exhaustion and relief.
“I panicked,” she admitted quietly. “When you said that, I’d just taken care of you. I liked that you were so direct, and then it seemed like you hated the person I really am. The controlling, calculating person who gets things done and is a bit bossy at times.” She laughed, but it came out hollow. “So I asked them to call me Sasha. It felt safer.”
“I don’t hate you.” The words were inadequate. “I think you’re amazing. The studio, what you’ve built, how you handled tonight—all of it. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”
She was quiet for a long moment, her phone buzzing against the duvet. She glanced at it, then at me.
“My mom texted earlier this week. Wants to set me up with her divorced neighbor and now she won’t leave me alone about it,” she picked up the phone, scrolled through messages, set it down again. “Two adorable little boys,” she parroted in a flat tone. “Such a nice man.”
“You don’t sound too excited.”
“She’s gotten worse since Enzo got engaged. I’m the eldest and I’m forty-two and single. To my family that means I’m either too broken or too picky,” she moved the phone to the nightstand. “Graham used to say I was both.”
My jaw tightened. “Graham’s a fu—he’s an idiot who never deserved you.”
“Maybe. But he wasn’t wrong about some things,” she pulled the tissue box closer. “I am difficult. I need things a certain way. I’m afraid of letting others fail or seeing me fail. I work too much because my mind never rests. I overthink nearly everything or don’t think at all and I can’t stand when people chew loudly or wear certain colognes or—”
“Stop.”
She looked up, startled.
“Those aren’t flaws, darlin’. That’s just how your brain works,” I shifted closer, our knees touching now. “You’ve built a successful business, a successful life. You take care of everyone—I assume with no thought for yourself. You clearly like making the world around you better than you found it. You installed your own chandelier, for crying out loud.”
Her mouth twitched. “It wasn’t that complicated.”
“My point is you deserve someone who appreciates what you bring to the table,” I swallowed, my heart hammering. “And if your family doesn’t realize that then they’re idiots too.”
My phone buzzed again. Then again. I pulled it out, intending to silence it, but the name on the screen made me pause.
Lou:Hope you’re having fun in Utah! Penny asked about you. When are you coming home?
Lou:Miss having you around. Maybe we could drive down while you’re in Salt Lake?
Alex noticed my hesitation. “Everything okay?”
I stared at the messages, guilt settling uncomfortably in my chest. Just like Alex, people had expectations of me and what I should be doing, especially now that my life had literally gone down in flames. Lou represented everything I was supposed to want—familiarity, comfort, safety. But I was never one to eschew risk and sitting here with Alex, knowing what I now knew about her, my old life—before the last thirteen years—felt like putting onclothes that no longer fit.
“Yeah,” I set the phone aside without responding. “Just someone from back home.”
She nodded, not pushing. The voices had faded from the kitchen—the house silent other than Enzo moving around in his room.
“So,” she said at length, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and avoiding looking at me. “What happens now? Do we pretend tonight didn’t happen? Go back to me being Sasha?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could make tonight official.”
