Her pen moves once. “And Alycia is there in the middle of that.”
“Exactly.” My hand curls against my thigh. “Every time she laughed, my body relaxed. Every time she went quiet, I could feel myself bracing for a hit.”
“What did you notice about her?”
“She tried to be small at first. All polite smiles and shoulders a little tight. The PR version of Alycia. But my family doesn’t let anyone stay on the edges for long. They folded her in without asking.”
“And how did that land on you?”
“It was a lot.” I let out a breath. “It made me stupidly proud and absolutely terrified.”
“Tell me about proud first.”
“She held her own and didn’t let them steamroll her. She was quick and sharp and soft in all the ways I knew she would be.”
My chest tightens.
“Seeing her there, laughing with my brothers and joking with my mom… it did something to me. It felt right. Too right.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means my body logged it like a blueprint. This is what it could be like if this were real. If she were mine and not just playing the part.” I swallow. “It felt like something I’ve wanted for a long time, even if I didn’t have words for it.”
“And the terrified part?”
“That they’ll get attached to her, and she’ll get attached to them. Momma will keep saying things likewelcome to the family,and Alycia will start to believe it.”
“Tell me about that moment,” she says gently.
I feel my hands clench. “My whole body went cold and hot at the same time. I couldn’t even get words out right. I sounded like an idiot.”
“What were you afraid of?”
“That she’d feel trapped or think I’d set her up. That the whole thing would scare her off. And that my family was building something on a foundation that isn’t real.”
“And what did you see on Alycia’s face?”
“Like no one had ever said something like that to her before and meant it.” The feeling catches right below my sternum, tightening like someone’s pulling a string from the inside. “And I don’t know how to give her that without lying.”
“Did you lie?” she asks.
“By omission. We let them think we’re together. I didn’t correct Momma. I just… tried to keep Alycia from drowning.”
“How?”
“I put my hand on her knee under the table. She looked fine on the surface, but I could see the tells—the tight shoulders, the shallow breathing, the shaking fingers. I know those tells. I have them, too.”
“What did your body do when you touched her?”
“It calmed,” I say, voice unsteady. “Everything quieted. And for a second, it felt like we were on the same team again. Even if no one else knew it.”
“That sounds like the line between pretend and real.”
“There was no line, not in that moment.” What comes out isn’t really a laugh—just a breath with edges.
She waits, letting the truth thicken the air. “And after?”
“I didn’t want to take her home,” I say quietly. “I wanted her to stay. I wanted her to wake up there. I wanted… I wanted too much.”
