Page 61 of The Secrets We Built Together

My throat tightened as she fumbled for a lighter, the small flame dancing in the darkness before catching the candle's wick. The gesture felt too intimate, too caring for our arrangement.

"Blake, you didn't have to—"

"Make a wish," she said softly, holding the cupcake between us.

I stared at the tiny flame, thinking about all the things I could wish for. Strength. Clarity. The courage to figure out what I really wanted. Instead, I found myself wishing for the ability to distinguish between what was real and what was performance.

I blew out the candle and looked up to see Blake's soft smile.

"We don't have guarantees in life, Xander," she said, setting the cupcake aside. "But maybe that's what makes the good moments matter more."

The truth of her words hung between us.

"The thing about recovery," I said slowly, "is that they teach you it's not about never feeling the craving again. It's about what you do when it comes."

Blake nodded, her hands folded in her lap. "Then maybe that's what we both need to learn. Not how to be perfect, but how to handle the uncertainty. Even when we don't know what's real."

Real. The word echoed in my mind, dangerous and appealing all at once.

"I keep thinking about that day at the farmer’s market," I admitted. "The way Ethan was looking at you. The way he wasso obviously flirting with you. I wanted to make it clear that you were taken. But you're not. Not really."

Blake's breath caught almost imperceptibly. "Xander..."

"I know this complicates everything," I rushed on. "I know we have an arrangement, and I know I'm probably the last person who should be having these feelings right now. But I can't seem to help it."

She was quiet for so long I thought I'd overstepped, ruined everything.

"It does complicate things," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I felt something too. When I saw the way you looked at him, at me. Like I mattered to you."

"You do matter. Everything matters. Probably more than it should."

We sat in the charged silence, both of us apparently afraid to take the next step, to make this conversation more real than either of us might be ready for.

"I don't know what happens next," I said eventually. "I don't know if I'm strong enough for this to be more than what we agreed to."

"I don't know if I am either," Blake said. "But maybe we don't have to figure it all out tonight. Maybe we can just... see what happens. Day by day."

Day by day. It was the language of recovery, the only way I'd learned to live this past year.

"I think," I said carefully, "that I'd like to stop pretending quite so much. If you're okay with that."

Blake's smile was small but genuine. "I think I'd like that too."

Chapter 24

Blake

Iwoke to Amelia's cries in the middle of the night. It wasn't her usual "I'm hungry" or "I need a diaper change" cry. This was something different—higher pitched, more urgent. I fumbled for the lamp on my nightstand and stumbled towards her crib.

"What's wrong, little one?" I whispered, reaching down to touch her forehead. My heart lurched when I felt the heat radiating from her skin. She was burning up.

"Xander!" I called out, louder than I'd intended. The cottage was small enough that my voice carried easily.

I heard his footsteps a moment later, quick and sure. He appeared in the doorway wearing only pajama pants, his hair disheveled from sleep, but his eyes instantly alert.

"She's burning up," I said, already lifting Amelia from her crib. She wailed louder at being disturbed, her little face flushed and distressed.

Xander was beside me in an instant, his hand replacing mine on her forehead. His touch was gentle but clinical, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed her.

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