You’d have done the same. It has nothing to do with you.
Except it does. Because that man keeps showing up even when he shouldn’t. And Bradley’s watching me now with a sharp stare. Aknowingone. I shift under it, pretending to fuss with Dad’s blanket.
Hours later, after the doctor’s rounds and a blur of visitors—Amelia, Isla, Xavier, the kids—the room finally quiets. Dad’s asleep, Mum’s gone downstairs to grab coffees with Xav, and I’m sitting by his bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest. He’s so damn stubborn. Refused to go to his last doctor’s appointment.“I’ll be fine,”he’d said. Yeah. Fine. I’ll save that lecture for when he’s awake. The door creaks open, and Bradley steps in. “You got a minute?”
My stomach knots. “Sure.”
We step into the hallway. The fluorescent lights hum above us.
“You holding up okay?” he asks.
“Define okay.” I force a smile. “If by okay, you mean existing on caffeine and sarcasm, then yeah. Totally fine.”
He chuckles softly. “There’s the sister I know.” His voice softens then. “You know, when I got that call from Sebastian… I’ve never heard him like that. He was frantic.”
My brow furrows. “Why are you telling me this?”
Brad’s gaze sharpens. “Because he’s been off lately. But when it comes to you, he doesn’t hesitate, because it was you he was worried about.”
I clear my throat, the words catching. “You know I’m not babysitting Teddy anymore, right?”
His stare is unwavering, those Mitchell-blue eyes that see too much. “He lied to me.”
“Who?”
“Sebastian.”
“He lied to you, how?”
Brad’s tone shifts. It’s calm, but edged with something heavier. “The night of Sebastian’s birthday, I asked him if anything was going on. Between you two.”
I freeze. The memory crashes over me before I can stop it—the balcony, the low hum of music and laughter behind the glass doors. The conversation I was never meant to hear. The one that shattered whatever fantasy I’d built in my head. My stomach twists as the realisation hits, and for a second, I can’t meet his eyes. “I know, Brad. I was there.”
He goes still, and the air between us thickens.
I take a slow breath, forcing myself to finally look at him. “I overheard you. Out on the balcony.”
He exhales slowly, crossing his arms. “Of course you did.” A moment of silence passes between us before he continues. “You know, I never asked you to make me a promise, but I had askedhim. And he broke it.”
My fingers freeze on the gold rings I’ve been twisting, their edges pressing into my skin. My voice comes out small. “It didn’t mean…” I pause, the lie dying on my tongue. “Itdidmean something. But you don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”
He studies me for a long time. “I had my suspicions,” he says finally, like he’s been holding it in for weeks and is relieved to get it out.
My eyes snap up. “Youwhat?”
A faint smile ghosts across his face, but there’s no playfulness behind it. “You think I didn’t notice? The way he looked at you? The wayyoulooked at him?”
Great.My stomach twists, a mix of embarrassment and resignation. Of course he noticed. How could he not? We weren’texactly subtle, no matter how much I’d convinced myself we were.
“But… you never said anything.”
“I didn’t need to,” he says simply. “He’d come to work grinning like an idiot. Hiding notes in his lunchbox, thinking the boys wouldn’t notice. Thinking I wouldn’t notice.”
The notes. Those damn sticky notes. I can still picture them—scribbled messages written in my messy handwriting, folded between his meal prep containers like tiny secrets.
Eat lunch, Grumpy.
You’re doing great, even if you look like hell.
