Page 41 of Enchanted to Meet You

The house quieted back down, the warm scent of garlic hanging in the air alongside the low hum of the muted TV. I stared at the staircase for a second longer than I meant to, my thumb absently tracing the corner of my textbook, feeling that familiar, quiet ache of watching a dad who cared, who came home, who continues to come home.

“He’s great,” I said softly, the word coming out a little heavier than I intended. “Your dad.”

Rhys was watching me, his green eyes tracking the shift in my face with that quiet sharpness he only used when we were alone.

“Yeah.” His voice dropped, losing the defensive edge he’d had all night. “He’s a good guy.”

“It must be nice,” I murmured, staring down at my hands. “Having someone who just... shows up. Even when he’s exhausted.”

Rhys didn’t push. He didn’t ask what I meant, or try to offer some clumsy sympathy. Instead, he just reached out, his fingers catching the edge of my textbook, gently pulling it away from me and setting it on the floor.

“He likes you, you know,” Rhys said quietly. “My dad. He doesn’t pull out the bad jokes for just anyone.”

“He was just being polite.”

“He doesn’t do polite when he’s running on three hours of sleep. He meant it.” Rhys shifted on the couch, dropping the bag of peas onto his lap and looking at me properly. “And for the record... thanks. For coming over. Even if you spent half the night telling me I was being a baby.”

“You were being a baby,” I pointed out, though the bite was entirely gone from my voice. “You’re going to be fine for practice tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Obviously,” Rhys said, a familiar smirk creeping back onto his lips.

I shifted against the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees as the low glow of the TV flickered across the dark living room.

“Can I ask you something?” I blurted out, the question tumbling past my lips before I had the chance to talk myself out of it.

“Will you actually listen if I say no?” he asked. Then, without waiting for my answer, he said, “Let’s hear it.”

“It’s about Kelcey,” I said. He immediately stiffened. I started to doubt myself, but I needed to know the story at some point. How on earth did she go from dating Rhys to being with his step-brother? And more importantly, how did Rhys feel about it? Not only was it bound to come up at some point, but I also just wanted to know. I’d learned so little about him this week—wasn’t it fair for me to want to know more? “I know she’s your ex. And obviously I know she’s with Justin now. But... what actually happened, Rhys? How did she end up with him?”

Rhys didn’t pull away, but a subtle stillness settled over his shoulders, locking his posture into place. He looked down at the unused controller sitting on his lap, his long fingers spinning one of the thumbsticks in a tight, mechanical circle.

“It’s not really a story I like dragging out into the light,” he said, his voice flat, though there wasn’t any anger in it directed at me.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I added hastily, suddenly terrified I’d smashed through the fragile wall between our stupid arrangement and real life. “Seriously, Rhys. If it’s off-limits, forget I asked.”

“It’s fine,” he said gruffly. He leaned his head back against the cushion, staring up at the dark ceiling. “It’s just... humiliating, mostly. Before Kelcey, I spent a really long time stuck on someone else. This girl I knew I couldn’t have. It was one of those stupid, hopeless things where you know it’s never going to happen, but you can’t exactly hit a switch in your brain and turn it off.”

“I know a little something about that,” I mumbled.

“Yeah,” he continued, a faint, humorless smile touching his lips. “So I was trying to move on. I wanted to get over her, and then I met Kelcey in my history class last year. She was... easy to fall for back then. Loud, funny, completely unapologetic about taking up space. We started talking, and within two weeks, we were staying up until three in the morning every night.”

He paused and the silence hung heavy between us, although it didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. More like he was just preparing—steeling himself for the painful memories he was about to go through.

“It was my first actual relationship,” he said quietly, his voice dropping into a register that felt almost painfully intimate. “We did everything together. Drove out to the lookout point after games, brought her iced coffee before her first period, stayed up making playlists. I fell head over heels, Ainsley. I really thought she was it for me. I thought, okay, this is what it’s supposed to feel like. I’m over the other girl. This is real.”

The controller joystick clicked softly under his thumb. I sat perfectly still, holding my breath, watching the way the shadows fell across the sharp angle of his jaw.

“And then came my dad’s wedding,” Rhys said, his tone going cold and level. “A few months ago. Justin was there obviously, and I brought Kelcey as my date. It was the first time Kelcey and Justin had ever been in the same room for more than five minutes.”

He stopped there, letting the silence stretch until the dark pieces finally slid together in my head.

“Oh,” I breathed, my stomach dropping through the floorboards. “Rhys... no.”

“Yeah.” A dark, bitter edge seeped into his words. “They hit it off at the reception. I didn’t think anything of it—I was actually glad Justin was being decent to her, because he and I were... well, we weren’t best friends, but we were good. We used to shoot hoops in the driveway, play FIFA, talk about school. We were actually starting to feel like real brothers, just like our parents wanted.”

He shook his head, a tight muscle flexing in his jaw.

“Turns out, they didn’t just ‘hit it off.’ She started texting him that night. Then meeting up with him after track practice. It went on for nearly three weeks right under my nose while I was busy thinking everything was great. She was coming over to my house, sitting on my bed, kissing me goodbye, and then Justin would sneak out his window to meet her in her car.”