Page 105 of Say Yes to the Nemesis
I hesitate. A second passes. Then another. What exactly is Ryan looking for?
“It’s hard having Jay as a big brother.”
I’m not sure how he’ll react to that. I hold my breath, waiting. Ryan’s brow furrows, caught off guard.
“He’s so… big,” I go on, trying to find the words. “Loud, charming, unforgettable. He walks into a room and owns it. Me? I’ve always just been the kid in the corner with a book.”
Ryan watches me, those eyes of his soft as he takes it all in, lets it all sink in.
“I spent years trying to figure out why that made me feel small. I’m still not totally sure. I think I’m just the less special sibling.”
He doesn’t respond right away. My heart beats faster in that silence. Maybe I said too much. Maybe he doesn’t understand. Then, finally, he speaks, his words so quiet I almost miss them.
“I’ve seen you do it,” he says with a kind of certainty. “The magic trick.”
“What magic trick?” I ask, confused.
“The one where you’re sitting right there, not even moving, but you vanish. Like… emotionally disappear. Slip out the side door without anyone noticing.”
I huff a laugh, surprised at how well he sees me, how much he’s noticed. “Yeah. I do that when Jay starts showboating.”
Ryan’s eyes don’t leave mine. There’s a warmth in them that makes me feel like maybe he really is different, like he really does see me in a way no one else does. “I always saw you, Wren. Even when Jay was sucking all the air out of the room.”
I turn away, fast.
Because that? That one hits too hard.
My eyes sting and I don’t want him to see. I blink down at the blanket instead.
“Can we watch a movie?” I ask, voice a little too bright.
He doesn’t push.
“Yeah,” he says. “You pick.”
I scroll through the movie menu, past the action flicks and rom-coms, while Ryan watches me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. I know exactly what I’m going to pick. I can practically hear his unspoken protest as my finger hovers over the screen.
“Oh, come on,” he says when I land onPride and Prejudice, the Keira Knightley version. “You’re killing me.”
I flash him a grin, feeling much lighter than I did a few minutes ago. “You said I could choose.”
He shakes his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Here I was hoping for at least a car chase.”
But he doesn’t argue, doesn’t put up any real fight as the opening scene flickers onto the screen. I settle in closer to him.
It doesn’t take long for me to get completely drawn in, forgetting everything else as the familiar story weaves its spell. About halfway through, the letter scene comes on, the part where Elizabeth realizes how terribly wrong she’s been, how completely she misjudged Darcy, and all the emotions I’ve been holding back start to bubble up. I can’t help it.
I start crying, tears tracing down my cheek as my chest tightens with the intensity of it all. Elizabeth got it all wrong at first, too. And still, Darcy stayed. Maybe people don’t always leave. Maybe sometimes they stay and let you try again.
Ryan notices right away. I wait for him to tease me, to make some crack about women and their feelings, something to soften my embarrassment at being so deeply affected.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my shoulder and drawing me into the safety and warmth of his chest. “Come here,” he murmurs, his voice gentle. It feels sogood, so right to be held like this, to let myself be vulnerable without fear of what it might mean.
We sit like that for a long time, the movie playing on, while something subtle and important shifts between us. It tightens my throat and makes my heart beat faster. Suddenly, I know.
I know that maybe this is as real as I’ve been secretly hoping it could be. Maybe we’re not self-sabotaging. Maybe we’re actually doing the opposite. Maybe we’re not fooling ourselves after all.
