“Thank you,” I breathed.
His arms came around me immediately, solid and sure. “Always.”
The word echoed through me, surprising me.
Not because he’d said it, but because he’d meant it.
For once, I wasn’t the difficult daughter. The embarrassing conversation. The disappointment everyone politely worked around. In that dining room, with their sharp looks and sharper expectations, Ledger hadn’t hesitated. He hadn’t tried to smooth things over or play neutral. He’d chosen me. Out loud and without qualifiers.
It felt like standing in sunlight after years of being told to stay in the shade.
I’d been seen. Not managed. Not corrected. Just … supported.
When I pulled back, our faces were inches apart. His breath brushed my cheek. His eyes dipped, just once, to my mouth.
The moment stretched. Thick with anticipation.
Then as if we both realized what we were doing, we jolted back like we’d touched something dangerous.
“We should get going before my mom comes after us,” I said quickly.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I want to be far away from your parents.”
As we walked to the car together, my heart still racing, one thought echoed louder than the rest.
We’d acted like a true married couple today, standing shoulder to shoulder, touching without thinking, and defending each other like it was instinct. It hadn’t felt like a performance. It had felt easy. Natural,even. Like slipping into a rhythm I hadn’t known I was missing.
This was supposed to be pretend.
So why did it feel so real?
CHAPTER 15
LEDGER
The car ride was quiet.
Not awkward, exactly, just heavy. Like the air itself was still catching up to everything that had happened.
I kept my eyes on the road as I drove us back toward the apartment, hands steady on the wheel, jaw locked a little tighter than usual. Roxie sat beside me, staring out the passenger-side window, one arm folded across her middle like she was holding herself together.
Her parents’ house disappeared in the rearview mirror, but the feeling of that dining room lingered. The sharp edges. The way every word had been weighed and found wanting. Mostly, the way Roxie had shrunk without meaning to, shoulders curving inward like she’d learned long ago how to make herself smaller in that space.
I hated that reflex in her. I disliked it even more thatit looked practiced. Like she’d been doing it so long she didn’t even realize she was doing it anymore.
I wasn’t used to wanting to shield someone like that. Not from words. Not from parents. It wasn’t my role. It wasn’t my responsibility.
Nevertheless, every time her father had spoken, something in me had risen up sharp and immediate, like my body had decided before my brain could catch up.
It made me furious all over again.
I’d known brunch would be bad, but I hadn’t expected it to bethatbad.
Her mother’s thin smiles. Her father’s barely concealed contempt. The casual cruelty of implying Roxie was a disappointment wrapped up in concern and politeness. I’d seen that kind of judgment before, just usually aimed in the opposite direction—people like me who didn’t come from anything, who were expected to be grateful for scraps and never ask for more.
But this?
This was different.
