The crowd thins as people drift outside or break into smaller groups. The chaos softens into background noise. Laughter. The pop of a balloon. Harrison shouts at Michael for nicking the last sausage roll. I keep my voice low. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”
She shrugs, tone light, her eyes anything but. “I know you’re not big on birthdays. I get it. But I love them. I love celebrating people. And I don’t think you should miss out just because you’re committed to being a grump.”
The corner of my mouth lifts.
Her voice drops as she continues, “You know, when Bradley used to talk about you, back when he first started at the station, he always called you the jokester. Said you were the guy who kept morale up. Pulled pranks. Made everyone laugh just by showing up.”
My brows knit together, caught off guard by the picture she paints.
Yeah. I used to be that guy, didn’t I?
“I think… under all the walls and the dad-mode and the routine, he was right,” she says. “I think there’s still a fun,adventurous guy under there. One who actually appreciates life. One who deserves to be celebrated, even if he forgot how.”
My throat tightens. Because—fuck. She’s right. Somewhere between night shifts, packing school lunches, and balancing overtime hours, I stopped living. It all became a checklist. Routine. Duty. Survival. And then came her. Olivia makes me feel like there’s more. Like life might actually be worth noticing again. Not just getting through, but really living. And that should feel like a gift. Something good. But instead, it’s terrifying.
Because she’s full of life and light, and I’ve spent so long buried under the weight of responsibility, under the kind of pressure that never lets up. She deserves freedom. Laughter. Someone who knows how to give softness without strings attached.
I don’t know how to be that.
Not when everything in my life hinges on staying grounded. For Teddy. For my career. For the stability I’ve fought so damn hard to build. I just need to find the right way to tell her that… without breaking something that already feels too fragile to touch.
“Thank you, Olivia,” I manage eventually, voice rough with everything I’m not saying.
Her eyes drop for a second to my mouth, before a soft smile pulls at hers. “You’re welcome, Bash.”
The balcony is quiet, or as close as it gets in a house full of noise and people. I lean against the railing, soaking in a breath that doesn’t do what it’s supposed to. The breeze is warm, carrying the scent of charcoal, alcohol, and eucalyptus, but it doesn’t cut through the fog in my head.
Below, Emma’s laugh slices through the music, Harrison’s monologuing about something again, and Sandra’s berating someone over the guac. From up here, it all feels distant. Like I’ve slipped just far enough out of reach to pretend I’m not part of it. I cradle my beer, eyes on the sky as it bleeds from burnt orange into navy. I’ve been out here for ten minutes pretending the silence helps. Pretending I’m not out here for the exact reason Bradley is about to point out.
“Didn’t think you’d be the type to hide out,” he says from behind me.
“Wasn’t hiding.”
He doesn’t push. Just sidles up to the railing, our shoulders brushing, eyes tracking the yard below. “That’s usually what people say when they are.”
I huff out something like a laugh. “Just needed a minute.”
“Sure. That, or a break from trying not to stare at Liv all night.”
I do my best to school my expression before he can clock it, but I can’t help the way my body freezes, and my jaw sets. “Nah. It’s not like that.”
“No?”
I shake my head, but it’s all reflex. No conviction behind it. He doesn’t press. Just allows the silence to do what it does best.
“You’d tell me, right?”
I glance at him then, brows furrowing. “Tell you what?”
“If something was going on.” He pauses. “If there was more to it than just her watching Teddy.” His tone isn’t hostile, not even suspicious. It’s steady. Calm. The kind of calm that leavesno room for bullshit. “You’re my mate, Daniels. Iknowyou. But, I’m alsoherbrother.”
That lands like a stone between us. “Exactly. She’s your sister.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Nothing is happening.” The words taste stale the moment they leave my mouth. Necessary, but hollow. “It’s not like that. She’s been helping with Teddy, just temporarily. She’s been great with him. With the both of us—” I pause, because I don’t know what Bradley’s clocked, and I don’t want to find out. I just know it needs to stop here. “But that’s all it’s meant to be,” I add, quieter now. “Temporary.”
Bradley watches me like he’s trying to read beneath the surface. Eventually, he nods, and I take that as my window, shifting my stance. “How’s Amelia been holding up with all the late nights and overtime?”
