Later that night, the plot thickened with a sudden, digital sharpness. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, the moonlight casting long, skeletal shadows across the room, when a new message from Oliver arrived. It was a string of laughing emojis followed by a block of text that made my breath hitch in my throat.
"Small world, Sadie," the message read. "I told my cousin Richard that I wanted to take you out when I visit, and the poor guy nearly lost his mind. He told me you two were already together. I had no idea! Why didn't you mention you were dating my cousin? I would have backed off immediately."
I stared at the screen, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I felt a surge of panic, the sensation of a trap closing around me. I wasn't prepared for Richard to have moved so aggressively, nor was I prepared for the directness of a Thorne's interrogation. My thumbs hovered over the glass, trembling slightly before the "Ice Queen" mask settled back into place, colder and more calculated than before.
"I prefer to keep my private life out of my inbox, Oliver," I typed back, forcing a digital poise I didn't entirely feel. "I wanted Richard to be the one to tell you. Some news is better delivered by family, don't you think?"
"Point taken," Oliver replied almost instantly. "I suppose I owe the happy couple a very expensive lunch."
The following Saturday, the air was crisp and biting as I met them at a small, high-end bistro downtown. Oliver was even more handsome in person, wearing a cashmere sweater and a tailored coat that made him look like he had walked off the cover of a luxury magazine. He was the picture of effortless grace. But the moment we walked in together, the atmosphere changed.
Richard did not hesitate. He immediately draped an arm over my shoulder, his fingers digging slightly into the wool of my coat as he pulled me firmly against his side. It was a possessive gesture, one that felt startlingly real and carried a heat that radiated through my layers. I was not prepared for the physical intensity of his claim.
Oliver stood up, a wide and seemingly genuine smile breaking across his face. "I see," he said, his eyes dropping to Richard's hand on my shoulder with a knowing glint. "You were not joking, Richard. You really did find someone special enough to make you settle down."
I felt a sharp pang of guilt as I looked into Oliver's eyes. He seemed kind, perhaps even gentler than the version Richard had described. He pulled out my chair for me with a practiced elegance and made sure I was comfortable before sitting back down. Throughout the lunch, however, Richard remained vigilant, a sentry guarding a fortress. His hand stayed in mine or rested on the back of my chair, marking his territory with a quiet and relentless focus.
"I have to apologize, Sadie," Oliver said smoothly, swirling the espresso in his cup. "If I had known my little cousin had finally committed to someone, I would never have been so forward in your messages. I hope I did not cause any friction between you two."
Richard tightened his grip on my hand under the table, his knuckles brushing against mine. "No trouble at all, Oliver," Richard said, his voice dropping into a dark, resonant tone. "I just had to remind her that she belongs with me. Some things are too valuable to leave up for debate."
The way Richard said it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It did not sound like a boy playing a part for a weekend audience. It sounded like a declaration of war. Throughout the lunch, Oliver remained perfectly respectful. He treated me like a sister, asking about my interests and my plans for the upcoming term, never once crossing the line. He seemed to truly buy the lie, and in doing so, he stepped back completely.
"I get it now," Oliver said as we prepared to leave, the city noise beginning to swell outside the bistro windows. "I can see the way he looks at you, Sadie. I will stay in my lane. You are a lucky man, Richard. Do not mess this up."
As Oliver walked away toward the valet, Richard did not let go of my hand. He looked at me then, a triumphant but flickering shadow in his eyes. He had won. He had successfully fended off the competition and secured his prize. But as I looked at the boy standing next to me, I realized the line between the lie and the truth had completely vanished.
He leaned in, his lips brushing my cheek in a lingering, soft gesture meant for the departing Oliver's benefit, but the spark it ignited in me was dangerously real.
"Get your hands off her."
The voice was a low, guttural snarl that shattered the moment. We both spun around to see Brian standing a few feet away, his chest heaving, his face a mask of pure, unbridled devastation. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were bloodshot, fixated on Richard's hand still locked in mine.
"Brian," I breathed, the guilt hitting me like a physical blow.
"I couldn't believe it when I heard the rumors," Brian said, his voice shaking with a rage that bordered on tears. He stepped toward Richard, ignoring me entirely. "I thought people were just talking trash. I thought there was no way my best friend, the guy who helped me get sober, the guy who coached me on how to win her over, would be backstabbing me the second my back was turned."
"Brian, listen…." Richard started, stepping in front of me, his posture shifting into something defensive.
"Listen to what?" Brian roared, attracting the attention of every patron on the sidewalk. "I told you everything, Richard! I trusted you with every doubt I had! You knew how much I put into this. You knew I changed my entire life for her!" He turned his gaze to me, his eyes full of a bitter, haunting accusation. "And you. You told me it was too 'heavy.' You told me I was a 'project.' Was that just the line you used so you could jump to the guy with the better last name?"
"It wasn't like that," I whispered, but the words felt hollow. Standing there, hand-in-hand with Richard while Brian fell apart in front of us, I looked exactly like the villain he thought I was.
"You broke the code, Rich," Brian spat, stepping up to Richard's face, their height nearly identical, the tension between them vibrating like a snapped wire. "You didn't just take the girl. You waited until I was down and then you stepped on my throat. We're done. Don't ever look for me again."
Brian turned and stormed off, nearly colliding with a passerby, leaving a wake of shattered silence behind him. I stood frozen on the sidewalk, the weight of the secret finally pulling us under. I had wanted to protect Richard from his cousin, but in doing so, I had destroyed the only real brotherhood he had ever known.
I looked at Richard, expecting to see regret. But as he looked back at me, his grip on my hand only tightened. The lie was over, the truth was out, and the cost of our "pretend" relationship had just become astronomical.