I stop the recording. Restart. “Today’s episode is about unexpected change. Sometimes life shifts under your feet and—”
Colton. Ronnie’s casualI ran into your brother.
Stop. Restart. “When life changes suddenly, we—”
Damien again, leaning over the saw yesterday, his shoulder brushing mine, his voice rough in my ear.
I smack the space bar and drop my head back against the wall with a groan. I’ve done three takes, and none of them sound like someone who’s calm and in control.
The trouble is, Iamliving today’s episode topic. The ground feels thin, like one wrong step will send me plunging through. Between Damien’s kiss, the way he shut down when I asked about Aaron, and now the fact that Colton’s in town… it’s too much to pretend it’s all business as usual.
I try again, pushing the words out like I’m steady. “Sometimes life changes without warning, and you have to decide whether to fight it, or let it carry you somewhere new.”
My voice sounds fine. Normal. But my heart is a hammer against my ribs.
I wrap up the episode with my usual sign-off, hit save, and peel off the blankets enough to slip out of the closet.
The house is quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge, until I hear the shuffle of slippers across the hardwood.
“Mom?”
She’s by the front door, coat half-zipped, purse hanging crooked from her shoulder. Her hair is pulled back, but strands have escaped, floating around her face like they’ve forgotten where they belong.
“I can’t find my keys,” she says, glancing around the entryway table. “If I don’t leave soon, Aaron will be waiting out front. You know how he hates that.”
The words hit like a fist.
Aaron hasn’t waited outside a school in ten years.
I force my voice light. “Hey, Mom. It’s okay, I’ve got it covered. Why don’t we sit down for a minute?”
Her brow furrows. “But he’ll be late—”
“I already picked him up,” I lie gently, guiding her away from the door. “He’s… busy with something.”
She relaxes a little at that, letting me steer her into the kitchen. I set her at the table with a crossword puzzle and a cup of chamomile, the steam curling up between us.
She smiles faintly, running her fingers over the pencil. “You always take care of everyone.”
I smile back, but my chest feels tight.
This is why I can’t let the sponsorship slip through my fingers. This is why the fake dating, the staged kisses, the risk of Colton finding out — it all has to work. Because if it doesn’t, I won’t be able to keep her here with me. And I can’t lose more family.
When Mom’s focused on the crossword, pencil scratching softly against the paper, I slip into the kitchen and open my laptop on the counter.
There’s an email from Heather at the sponsor’s PR team sitting at the top of my inbox.
Loved the coverage from your lunch at the diner — you and Damien have such natural chemistry. If possible, we’d love to see more of that in the coming weeks: casual photos, community events, even a quick video or two. You’re on the right track.
I read it twice, my stomach knotting tighter each time.
Natural chemistry.
The problem is, there’s nothingnaturalabout any of this. Every smile, every touch, every kiss is a calculated move — and yet, somehow, Damien has a way of making it feel like the opposite.
I close the laptop and lean against the counter, pressing my palms into the cool laminate. If Heather wants more public moments, that means more exposure, more eyes, more chance for Colton to see us before we can manage the fallout.
The timing couldn’t be worse.
