I’m used to being looked at. Sized up. Appraised. Sometimes admired. Sometimes resented.
Being avoided feels worse.
Like she’s already decided to be wary of me.
Which is fair. But it still gets under my skin.
I shift in my chair and remind myself that none of this should matter. She doesn’t matter. This is business, not chemistry. A temporary alignment built to weather a storm.
I clear my throat and finally answer Evelyn, keeping my voice controlled and even.
“I’m looking for clarity,” I say. “Defined roles. Defined limits. I don’t want assumptions or improvisation.”
Lila's fingers curl inward like she’s gripping something invisible. She doesn’t argue. Doesn’t push back. Doesn’t say anything at all.
Evelyn nods, calm as ever. “That’s reasonable.”
She turns to Lila. “And you?”
Lila inhales slowly, like she’s choosing her words from a very limited supply.
“I want…” She stops, then tries again. “I don't want to feel like I’m on display every second.”
Her voice is steady, but it costs her something. I can hear it in the slight strain, the careful pacing.
I don’t soften. I don’t let it show. I’ve learned better than that.
But the idea that she’s not here chasing attention or status throws off my internal narrative.
It complicates things, and I don’t like complications.
Evelyn watches us both, eyes sharp behind her calm expression. She’s clocking everything. The misalignment. The sparks. The resistance.
“You’re both framing this as something you’re being subjected to,” she says evenly. “Which makes sense, given the circumstances. But you’re missing the larger function.”
I narrow my eyes slightly. “Which is?”
She folds her hands. “You’re thinking of this as a romantic relationship.”
I nod. “I thought this was a matchmaking service.”
“It looks that way,” she agrees. “But that’s not the core purpose.”
I lean back, arms crossing. “Then what is?”
Evelyn meets my gaze directly. “It’s a protective partnership.”
Not romance. Not intimacy. Not emotions.
Protection. Structure. Function.
Things I understand.
“I want to be honest with both of you,” she says. Her tone is calm. Too calm. “You’re both here because of urgency.”
Lila’s shoulders tense.
I notice it immediately. The way her spine stiffens, like she’s bracing for bad news.
