Page 93 of Glitched Play

Maybe I’m only now noticing.

“I’ve never met a family like yours,” I say.

He looks ahead. “Neither have I.”

A laugh slips out. “That’s very fair.”

“They’re exhausting.”

“They love you.”

“I know.”

The certainty in his voice surprises me. Not because I doubted it, but because he says it without hesitation, like love is one of the few data points he doesn’t question.

“They show it loudly,” I say.

“Unfortunately.”

“But you show it quietly.”

His steps slow half a beat.

I keep walking because if I stop, I might say too much.

“You knew Witley wanted dinosaurs because she mentioned it once in April. You brought her the best gift because you listened. You let her climb all over you. You lost a game to her earlier.”

“I didn’t lose.”

“You absolutely lost.”

“She altered the controls.”

“She’s four.”

“She’s advanced.”

I laugh again, but when I glance over, Witt isn’t smiling. He’s looking just past my shoulder, thoughtful in the way he gets when something has landed deeper than he expected.

“You fit surprisingly well,” he says.

My heart stops.

Not dramatically.

Not in a romance-novel swoon.

It simply pauses, like my whole body needs a second to understand the words.

You fit surprisingly well.

Chase said I fit at Synatrix.

Witt is saying I fit with his family.

Those are not the same thing.

One is a career.