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I am thankful for the abrupt change of subject, but not sure I will ever recover from that. I want to crawl under the table and melt into the floor.

Theo seems to be turning the question around in his mind, probably reluctant to give an honest answer, but ultimately unphased by Emily’s antics.

He didn’t have to switch careers. He chose to, though it was probably a smart choice. A loss that big so early on in your career? It changes things. But I’m sure the reason why is not something he likes to talk about over dinner, especially with Evelyn Mayfair.

Baryn doesn’t give him the chance. His eyes gleam with something almost predatory. “It must be humbling, being reduced to this. Teaching freshmen about legal ethics when you couldn’t even uphold your own law career.”

Theo exhales sharply through his nose, but the curve of his lips is cold, calculated. “You’re confusing ‘humbled’ with ‘human,’ Baryn. It’s an easy mistake for someone who’s never been either.”

Emily chokes on her water.

Evelyn’s expression flickers with open amusement. I think she’s just found her new favorite spectator sport.

From the other end of the table, Baryn’s own mother barks a laugh, shaking her head like she’s been waiting for someone to put her son in his place.

Baryn, however, barely reacts. His smirk doesn’t falter, if anything, it deepens, like he’s been waiting for Theo to take the bait. He tips his wine glass to his lips, taking a long sip, eyes never leaving Theo’s face. Then he turns.

To me.

“You know,” he rasps, “if you ever need a break from your research, sweetheart, I could find other uses for those clever little hands of yours. I’m sure you could teach me how to tie a knot or two.”

The table goes dead silent.

It’s like all the air is sucked from the room in an instant. I feel pure rage at his words, but before I can even open my mouth, Theo moves.

He shoves back from the table, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he sits up straighter. Gone is the composed, indifferent act. His expression darkens, something lethal tightening in his posture, sharp edges where there were once smooth lines.

“Baryn.” His voice is too calm. “If you speak to her like that again, I will personally make sure it’s the last thing you ever say.”

The air crackles, thick with something on the verge of snapping.

Baryn’s lips part, like he’s considering pressing further, but something makes him hesitate.

My stomach dips.

Somersaults.

Twists into something unrecognizable.

Theo’s hand is back on my knee, but this time, there’s no gentle squeeze—just firm, unwavering pressure, like he’s physically restraining himself from climbing across the table.

Baryn chuckles, low and lazy. “Relax, Professor. It was only a joke.”

Theo doesn’t budge. “Try it again.” His delivery is composed, but there’s an edge to it, a warning. “See what happens.”

Baryn lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Noted.”

Theo finally relaxes his grip on my knee, but he doesn’t pull away completely. Instead, his fingers trace the fabric of my dress lightly, like he’s reminding himself that I’m still here. Maybe reminding himself why we’re here.

I swallow hard.

So much for a hesitant fake boyfriend.

Evelyn hides her reaction behind her napkin, then gathers herself. “Theo, don’t make threats at the dinner table, dear. It’s bad manners.”

I give her a look that says, so glad you are entertained by this, but she just shrugs like she’s not ashamed about it. I guess when you’re her age, you take your pleasure where you can get it.

Theo doesn’t take his eyes off Baryn when he responds. “It wasn’t a threat.”