I leaned back against the kitchen counter, feeling the weight of my frustration settle deeper in my chest.
It’s too much. Too many inside jokes and stories from the past. I’m sitting here like a goddamn ghost.
My phone buzzed again.
You should call her out.
Seriously.
You need to stake your claim, Lex. Eva chose YOU.
I rubbed a hand over my face. Mathilde wasn’t wrong, but the idea of calling Kate out made my stomach churn.
I don’t know if I can do that.
I stared at the screen for a long moment before typing again.
I’m just gonna try to survive the next few hours without tearing anyone’s head off.
I hit send and leaned my palms flat against the cool surface of the countertop to steady myself. It didn’t help that the quiet of the house felt so at odds with the knot of tension tightening in my stomach.
When I returnedto the sunroom, the scene before me froze me in my tracks.
Eva was still sitting in her chair, her leg propped up on a second one, but it was the way Kate was leaning over her—so close, her hand brushing Eva’s arm, her face mere inches from hers—that made my chest tighten. The look in Kate’s eyes was too familiar, too soft, and I felt a stab of something sharp and unpleasant.
I blinked, trying to clear the scene, but it didn’t go away.
Eva looked up at me and seemed to shift backwards, but Kate didn’t move—not right away at least. She stayed where she was, still too close, her fingers lingering too long on Eva’s sleeve.
“Lex, sit,” Eva said, her voice low and a little strained.
I hesitated with my feet rooted to the floor.
Eva’s gaze softened as she caught the tension in my posture. Her eyes flicked briefly to Kate before returning to me. “Please.”
I walked to the chair opposite her and lowered myself into it. I kept my gaze on Kate, who finally pulled back. She smoothed the front of her sweater like she was trying to make the moment look more casual than it felt.
I cleared my throat. “How do you like med school, Kate?”
She turned to me, polite and bright. “It’s really great. I’m starting clinicals soon, hopefully ortho. So Eva’s case was kind of fascinating. Not that Iwantedher to tear anything,” she added, glancing at Eva. “But, you know, it’s rare to get such a clean midsubstance ACL tear without other complications.”
I had to refrain from rolling my eyes.Of courseshe knew the exact type of injury.
Conversation after that continued to be stilted—Kate brought up some mutual acquaintance from Boston and Eva offering a few clipped observations. All the while, I stared out the sunroom’s windows as the afternoon’s pale sunlight faded with the advancing hours. I couldn’t shake the memory of Kate leaning in too close, her presence far too easy.
At some point, Eva leaned her head back against her chair and closed her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Just tired,” she murmured.
Kate reached for the blanket draped over the back of Eva’s chair and unfolded it with a kind of familiarity that stung.
“Thank you,” Eva mumbled, barely looking at her.
Kate glanced between us, maybe finally sensing that something was off. She set her lemonade down and stood. “I should probably head out. I’ve got class early tomorrow.”
She leaned down to give Eva a careful, lingering hug. Her movements looked almost too deliberate. “Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll text you.”
