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Then I close out of the logs and pull up the island’s resident files, as it’s where I go when I need to understand someone better. There is so much information held within these pages. I enter Kayla’s name into the search bar, and her file appears on my screen. It’s not extensive like some people’s—only her background check, the NDA, the logs of her wristband activity, and notes that have been added from the forms she filled in. I hover the cursor over the background check, then quickly click out of her file and sit back in my office chair. I have held off on this moment, wanting to see if I could figure her out for myself, saving reading her history for if I couldn’t.

Kayla told me something yesterday, and I grow closer to her every day. Reading her file now would be cheating. I tell myself that this is a tactic. It must be because the alternative would throw everything out of whack, and I don’t know how to process that reality.

I push back from my chair and go make myself a coffee, because if I sit and stare at the screen, I might jeopardize my relationship with Kayla, and for the first time in my life I want to do this the right way. If I need to know something, she said I could ask her, and that is what I plan to do.

No one is downstairs, but I hear movement above me. Given the lack of stealth and loud thumps, my guess is Vero is awake. So I hurry to make my coffee and leave before chaos descends.

As I pour, I think about the time I made the mistake of telling Brawley about how I operate, how he just looked at me and said, “The issue with your system is that one day someone is going to walk in who doesn’t fit and you won’t know what to do.”

At the time, I thought that was absurd. That is not how my systems operate; they are made for new variables, to accommodate them. He had simply muttered, “Sure,” and left it at that. But maybe he was right.

Kayla doesn’t fit, and not because she is complicated. I have managed those people my entire life without even breaking a sweat. But she walked in, saw my system, and understood it. Kayla stayed and adjusted her own behavior to accommodate it. She was matter-of-fact about it, figuring out my needs and leaning into them, and that has me stumped.

I have never had someone willingly give me what I need. The others know and accept it for what it is, but they never leaned into it like she is determined to do.

Hustling back into my office on the ground level, I take a seat on the sofa where it overlooks the back of the property out toward the water. It’s nice here, a place to sit and think.

Footsteps descend the staircase, and a minute later Kayla appears in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee and wearing one of Brawley’s shirts. She walks in and sits down beside me.

“Thanks for putting the coffee on.”

“You don’t need to thank me; I have been up for a few hours and needed a break.”

“It’s still nice to wake up to liquid goodness.”

“How are you feeling today?”

A question programmed into me, a way to judge someone, how I can use it to my advantage. I shake the thought away as she smiles into her cup.

“Old habits, huh?” she murmurs, and I nod.

“I have been thinking about Aaron, not the exact details, but that he can’t come back.” She wraps both her hands around the cup and looks down. “I was naïve and thought I was safe once before, even though in the back of my mind I was afraid he would find me.”

“You never have to worry about him again. You won’t have to waste any more energy on him.”

“That was almost comforting,” she says with a chuckle.

“Almost?” I ask.

“The way you said it was like you were reading it from an instruction manual.”

“I was improvising, trying to be a good boyfriend.”

She laughs. “Can we not mention the boyfriend thing to the others yet? They will all try to one-up you, and I’m not ready for that chaos.”

We both laugh, and the sound of Vero’s voice carries down the hallway, asking what’s for breakfast. Kayla yells out to him to pick something and make it himself.

She stands and looks down at me. “Are you coming?”

“In a minute.”

She nods and leaves the room while I stay and think about how I navigate this without losing her in the process. It’s the moment I realize I care if I lose her, and it hits me hard. I have felt nothing like this before.

I sit and process this for a while, trying to figure it out. Maybe I’ve convinced myself that I care because it is something she wants, but I know that is a huge fucking lie because Kayla accepts me for who I am.

Refusing to think about it anymore, I get up and stride into the kitchen. Like clockwork, Brawley is at the stove cooking, and Vero is supervising, like he always does. Clay is drinking his coffee, but the change is he is now staring at Kayla, who is seated at the table laughing. At Vero trying to steal food from the pan, and at Brawley, who keeps whacking his hand away.

I move to make myself another coffee, and Kayla glances over at me with a smile. This all feels very domestic and not how I pictured my life.