“Oh, they’ve refined it to an art form at this point.” Steven sits up fully now, his expression unusually serious. “But the Amanda situation is different. They actually like her. Or rather, they like what she represents—old money, right connections, a career that looks impressive but wouldn’t interfere with producing Thompson heirs.”
The room suddenly feels smaller. “Skyler’s been messaging her.”
Steven’s eyebrows shoot up. “Recently?”
“Apparently. He claims it was to understand her ‘struggles’ during their engagement. To help navigate our situation better.” The explanation sounds even more ridiculous when I repeat it.
“Bullshit.” Steven stands, pacing alongside me now, his movements fluid and unrestricted compared to Skyler’s perpetual stiffness. “Look, I love my brother, but he’s deep in the Thompson fog—always has been. Father has him convinced that family obligation trumps personal happiness, and Mother’s trained him to avoid conflict at all costs.”
“I’ve noticed,” I say dryly.
Steven stops, turning to face me directly. “Here’s what you need to know, Harley. Amanda’s been asking about Skyler at every society function for the past three months. Not subtly, either. She’s made it clear to anyone who’ll listen that she considers your engagement a ‘phase’ Skyler’s going through.”
My stomach twists. “And your parents?”
“They’re playing the long game, Harl.” Steven flops back onto the bed, one arm thrown over his face dramatically. “They’ve never stopped seeing Amanda as the daughter-in-law they want. They invite her to everything. They constantly mention her when they know Skyler’s listening. It’s psychological warfare, and my brother’s defenses have been compromised since birth. He lets them. Sometimes I don’t even believe he realizes it.”
I sink onto the edge of the bed, legs suddenly unsteady. “Your brother is either the most conflict-avoidant person I’ve ever met, or he’s keeping his options open.”
“Knowing Skyler, it’s probably both.” Steven runs a hand through his deliberately messy hair. “He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, which means he ends up hurting everyone.”
Something about Steven’s casual insight feels more truthful than any conversation I’ve had in this house. There’s no careful maneuvering, no hidden agenda, just blunt assessment of the situation.
“What would you do?” I ask, surprising myself with the question.
Steven lets out a short laugh. “Me? I’m the family cautionary tale, remember? ‘Don’t be like Steven. He has actual opinions and expresses them out loud.’” He softens, seeing my expression. “But if you’re asking what I think you should do, well, that really depends on whether my brother is worth fighting for.”
The question hangs in the air, heavier than it has any right to be.
“I love him,” I admit, the words barely audible. “Or at least, I love the version of him when it’s just us.”
Steven reaches over to squeeze my hand briefly. The gesture is so unexpected and genuine that I almost tear up. “For whatit’s worth, he’s better with you. More real. Less Thompson-robot and more actual human.”
“Not better enough to stand up to your parents.”
“No one’s ever taught him how.” Steven shrugs. “I went the scorched-earth route. It’s effective but lonely, and it honestly veered Sky in the opposite way. He took the path of least resistance, and now he doesn’t know how to change course.”
“And I’m starting to think Skyler doesn’t want to fight for me.”
Steven joins me at the window, his reflection appearing beside mine in the darkened glass. “For what it’s worth, I’m on your side. The black sheep vote doesn’t carry much weight around here, but I can try the whole heart-to-heart tactic with my bro.”
I turn to face him, suddenly grateful for this unexpected ally in enemy territory. “Thank you.”
“Us outsiders have to stick together.” He grins, but his eyes remain serious. “But whatever you decide about my brother, make sure it’s what you want, not what’s easiest. We’ve got enough people in this family making that mistake already.”
He heads for the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “I’ll run interference with the parental units tomorrow. Give you two some space to figure things out.”
Perfect. Because I’m supposed to visit my dad with Skyler tomorrow.
After he leaves, I stand alone in the silent room, staring at the closed door. The question echoes in my mind, impossible to ignore: Is Skyler worth fighting for?
The part I don’t say aloud—the part I barely admit to myself—is that I’m terrified the answer might be no. That beneath all my anger and hurt lies the growing certainty that Skyler will never choose me over his family’s expectations. That I’m fighting a war that was lost before it even truly began.
But Steven’s offer is a saving grace. Because he’s promised to deal with Elaine and Robert, the Saturday morning airfeels lighter when I wake up. For the first time in weeks, we aren’t being summoned to a Thompson brunch or a committee meeting. And it’s because of that small pocket of freedom that I spend the morning packing our bags with a frantic kind of hope. This trip to my dad’s isn’t just a visit anymore; it’s a rescue mission. I need to get Skyler away from the marble and the hushed insults. I need to see if the man I fell in love with still exists once we cross the Lake Forest city limits.
I practically push him toward the car before his mother can find a reason to stop us. As the iron gates swing open to let us out, I don’t look back. I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead, watching the manicured estates give way to the wilder, unkempt beauty of the real world.
I have to try.
