“Hey.” I push off the bed and walk to her. “Sorry if you called, I’m… avoiding my phone.”
“I figured,” she says, voice warm, steady. “Never wanted to intrude. I did text and… you didn’t answer, which felt like you might need someone.”
Before I can respond, Marianna grabs her keys and headphones.
“I’m going for a run.” She kisses my forehead. “I’ll be back in an hour.” She whispers something to June as she passes, then she’s gone.
Babysitting rotation activated.Great.
“My room is a disaster,” I mutter, wiping under my eyes. “Let’s go to the living room.”
June nods. “Perfect. I got those quinoa bowls you like. And beet juice.”
Emotion hits my throat like a punch. When did I get so lucky with people? When did the universe decide to hand me sisters instead of friends?
“Thank you,” I whisper, swallowing tears and leading her to the living room.
She opens containers, lining them neatly on the coffee table like we’re about to have a tiny picnic in the ruins of my emotional life.
“How are you feeling? Emily said you were sick, and I didn’t want to pry, but when I walked into work this morning, there was a very broody Irishman pacing the office. I’ve never seen a man look so panicked.”
More tears. Jesus Christ. Am I ever going to stop crying?
“I’m sorry he cornered you,” I murmur, wiping my cheek. “He shouldn’t be showing up at the office asking about me. Especially where Emily lurks. If she finds out, theworldfinds out.”
June shifts, eyes serious. “That’s actually… why I’m here.”
The room hums. The refrigerator clicks in the kitchen. Time doesn’t stop, but I do. My heartbeat is too loud in the quiet, like my body already knows something I don’t want to hear.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
“I don’t want to overstep,” she says, “but I heard something today that I thought you would want to know.”
“What?”
She exhales slowly. “When I saw him this morning, I didn’t know you weren’t coming in. I told him you were probably running late. Then Emily came in and told me you’d called out sick.”
I nod.
Of course Emily did, so far, the story makes sense.
“While Emily was still there, he came back asking again. Emily told him you weren’t coming in, and he asked if you’d be in tomorrow. She got annoyed and said, and I quote, ‘What does he think? He runs this department now because he gave up part of his salary to fund it?’”
I sit upright. “What?”
“I asked her what she meant,” June says, eyes soft, steady. “She said that after his welcome ceremony, he asked them to expand the social media department and give you an assistant. They said the team budget had been tapped for years. So he told them to take it out of his salary contract. And they… did. That’s why I was hired.”
The room tilts.
I grab the edge of the couch.
“So you’re telling me,” I breathe, voice barely there, “Rogue gave up part of his salary… so I could have help?”
“No,” June utters, a tiny smile tugging her lips. “I’m telling you he gave up part of his salary… so you wouldn’t drown alone. So your world got a little lighter. So someone had your back.”
His laugh echoes in my head. His hands on my waist. The way he whispered my name like it was prayer and surrender in one breath. How can something so sacred break this fast?
I sit there, absorbing it, breath caught somewhere between anger and gravity. The floor shifts under me, not enough to steady me, but enough to make me sway.
