The way I hated myself for needing that kind of protection.
Alex nudged me, whispered a joke. I almost laughed, but my mouth was too dry. My eyes flicked straight to Caiden, who didn’t look away.
Sabrina poured drinks. Shane started the game, pretending nothing was wrong. Maybe he believed it. Maybe he just wanted to.
At one point, Caiden’s stare got so heavy I almost screamed. I snapped a card onto the table, too loud.
Alex chuckled. “Competitive, huh?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Something like that.”
He leaned in, hand on my thigh, inching higher. “I thought you liked me being hands-on.”
I forced another laugh, but all I felt was nausea, heat, guilt. Behind Alex, Caiden’s hands were balled into fists. The tension in the room could have choked us all.
I could feel myself unspooling, the storm in my head getting louder.
Blake’s phantom voice, slithery and cruel:You think you’re worth saving? You think anyone here loves you for real?
Then Caiden’s, rough and broken:You’re not getting rid of me. I’m the last thing left.
Then Alex, desperate for something normal: “You okay?”
God, I wanted to scream.
But all I did was nod. Let him hold me close, let him stake his claim, even as every cell in me begged for something harder, meaner, more real.
At the end of the night, the scores didn’t matter. No one was really winning. No one ever did.
I stared at the table and let myself crumble, piece by piece.
Even when Alex’s arm held me close, I could still feel Caiden. I could still taste the ruin.
Nothing else compared.
Nothing ever would.
Eventually, Sabrina packed up the kitchen, and Shane tried to herd everyone toward the door in that gentle, hinting way. Social skills I’d never mastered.
The board game sat abandoned on the coffee table, pieces scattered like loose teeth. Alex slouched with one arm flung around my shoulders, warm and secure, the way a normal boyfriend would.
I didn’t remember saying yes to being his girlfriend. Maybe I never had.
He brushed hair from my cheek. “You want me to walk you out?”
I shrugged. “If you want.”
He grinned, always eager to please. “I’ll text when I’m home.”
Sabrina shot me a look as I passed. Something complicated, worry tangled up in hope. I nodded, promised I’d be fine.
The porch was colder than I expected, air damp, wood hunched under the weight of too much rain. Alex cupped my jaw, gentle, like he was afraid I’d snap. Maybe I would.
“Tonight was good,” he said. “You did good.”
Compliments like that should have felt sweet. They just bruised.
I smiled anyway. “Thanks.”
