Page 54 of Tessa and Nash

Tessa’s whole expression softens. She crouches just a little, bringing herself down to Ellie’s level without making a show of it.

“It’s real,” Tessa says gently. “Do you want to see?”

Ellie nods, excitedly.

Wyatt toddles in behind her, points at the ring, and declares, “Shiny.”

Faith snorts. Rose might cry. Maggie watches, and her face loosens around the edges. Emotion I haven’t seen much since Dad died.

Tessa holds her hand while Ellie leans closer, careful not to touch. As if it’s a museum piece.

And in that moment, the lie feels… dangerously close to becoming more.

Dinner happens whether I’m ready or not.

Plates clink. Chairs scrape. Wyatt tries to steal food from everyone’s plate. Rusty tries to steal food from Wyatt. Faith talks enough for three people. Rose keeps feeding everyone as if it’s her job to make sure we’re all still alive and functioning.

Maggie asks Tessa questions. Subtle ones. Safe ones. What she’s doing at work, how her grandmother is.

Tessa answers as if she’s been training for this her whole life.

She laughs at Faith’s jokes at the right moments. She compliments Rose’s cooking. She listens when Mom speaks.

And she touches me, writing a language onto my skin.

A hand on my arm when I start talking too fast.

A shoulder bump when I get defensive.

A light squeeze of my fingers when my mother says something kind, and my throat tightens. I’m twelve again and don’t know what to do with feeling seen.

I hate how much it helps.

I hate how good she is at this.

I hate that I’m watching her and thinking, I don’t deserve her pretending.

Because she’s not just convincing my family, she’s convincing parts of me I’ve never been able to talk into believing.

That I can be strong.

That I can be chosen.

That I can walk into my own house and not be the unreliable one everyone braces for.

Boone watches.

He doesn’t say much, but every time Tessa’s hand lands on me, his gaze flicks there. He’s not buying what I’m selling, but he’s willing to watch the product.

Dallas stays quiet. Lila stays close to him, eyes tracking Tessa, figuring out whether she’s safe.

At one point, Faith leans over and stage whispers to Rose, “He’s blushing.”

“I am not,” I say automatically.

Rose grins. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m… warm,” I protest.