Page 19 of Dream On, Liar

Something in my chest tightened again.

“What?” I bit out.

Oliver’s expression barely shifted, shaking his head once, like he’d expected that reaction.

“Nothing,” he said evenly. “You just look like hell.”

“Cheers.”

Raina cleared her throat. “You know you don’t have to do this every time, right?”

I raised a brow. “Do what?”

“This.” Her voice softened carefully, like she was testing each word before letting it leave her mouth. “Storm out. Shut everyone out like the world will end if you stayed long enough to share what’s wrong.”

I let out a humourless laugh. “Bit dramatic.”

“Is it?” Oliver asked quietly.

“Yes. I went for a run. That’s hardly a breakdown.” I bit back, looking away to grab the blender with more force than necessary. “Just be glad I came back home instead of the pub.”

Stop being so defensive.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how to.

“No.” Raina said, softly but firmly. “But running eight miles in January when you’re on strict orders to rest, just because you’re upset isn’t exactly normal behaviour either. You do realise that when you guys have your physical exam next week, you’re going to be under more scrutiny, especially with everything going on?”

I finally looked at her then. There wasn’t a trace of hurt in her expressions, like my words from earlier had been easily forgotten. Like she’d already made up some excuse for me. But the worry in her eyes was clear as day. Which somehow felt worse.

“You can talk to us, you know,” she said.

“That’s rich,” The words huffed out of me before I realised.

For fucks sake.

“What does that mean?” Raina asked, a deep frown settling on her face.

I hesitated, before forcing myself to shake my head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Before she could press me any further, her phone began vibrating sharply against the counter. The sound cut through the kitchen fast enough that all three of us looked toward it automatically.

I knew that ringtone.

After more than a year of watching my sister settle into her new role—moving from Formula One to Cricket—I’d learnt the difference between casual notifications and the ones that mattered, along with the ringtone my sister reserved specifically for her manager. The rapid buzz usually meant something urgent from work.

Raina grabbed her phone and glanced at the screen. Whatever she read made her expression shift almost instantly. Not panic. Not excitement either. Something tighter…something close to caution.

I took the opportunity to turn back to the counter, emptying the contents into the blender. The familiar routine gave my hands something to do while silence settled behind me again.

The blender roared to life for a few seconds, loud enough to swallow the tension in the room whole.

But when I switched it off and turned around with the glass still in my hand, neither of them had moved.

Oliver had moved closer to her, looking down at the phone screen. Raina’s mouth had pressed into a thin line, her thumb hovering uselessly near the edge of the device like she still hadn’t decided what to say.

My stomach sank a fraction.

“That about me, then?” I asked flatly.