Page 108 of His To Unravel
I fight the urge to reach for her hand beneath the table. Instead, I hold still, my fingers curling into my palm as my father continues.
“He had remarkable instincts,” he muses wistfully. “A rare quality. It’s a pity the two of you never had the chance to meet. I imagine he would have been quite…taken with you.”
I feel the words like a slow, dull blade pressed against my ribs.
I stare at the flickering candlelight reflected in the polished surface of the dining table, feeling the phantom weight of my father’s expectations settle onto my shoulders like an old, familiar coat.
“You would have made a striking pair,” he continues, his voice light, but the meaning beneath it heavy. “Intelligence, ambition, drive. He valued those traits in a partner.” A pause. “He would have chosen well too.”
I exhale slowly.There it is.
The unspoken truth that has followed me my entire life. That no matter what I do, what I become, I am still the lesser choice. If my father had any say in which of us remained, it wouldn’t be me sitting at this table.
Across from me, my mother reaches for her wine, her expression carefully neutral. She won’t stop him. She never does.
Olivia, however, straightens as she addresses my father.
“I don’t doubt Alexander was an incredible person, but Nathaniel is one of the best men I’ve ever known.”
Something in my chest clenches.
“He’s thoughtful and intentional,” she continues. “He doesn’t do anything halfway, giving all his energy, time, and attention to everything he touches. That kind of dedication is rare.”
My father says nothing, but I catch the slight narrowing of his gaze, as if he’s reevaluating her entirely.
“And while I’m sure Alexander was remarkable,” Olivia adds, still looking at me, “nobody compares to Nathaniel.”
My pulse thunders in my ears.
She has no idea what she’s just done.
No one has ever spoken of me like that before. No one has everseenme like that. Like I alone am enough. Like I’mworthy.
Under the table, her hand squeezes mine—a silent gesture reassuring me that she’s in this with me.
My father finally breaks the silence with an amused hum. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”
It should be a relief to hear him relent, even slightly. But I’m too caught in the words that Olivia just said as though they are fact.
The rest of the dinner is an exercise in restraint. I force myself to stay seated by Olivia’s side because I won’t leave her to navigate my family alone. But my body is taut with the need to escape.
I barely speak. How can I when I’ve just experienced something so monumental?
For the first time in my life, someone counters the comparisons. Not out of obligation or politeness. Not to pacify me or pretend I’m something more than I am. She means every word.
While my father never fails to pull me backward into a state of inadequacy, Olivia sees me as neither second best nor a shadow cast in someone else’s brilliance. Just…me.
When the meal finally ends, I push back my chair decisively, standing before anyone can request another second of our time. I take Olivia’s hand and she offers polite farewells as I lead her out of the dining room.
My mother’s voice calls out behind us. “Stay the night, won’t you?” she asks, but I barely acknowledge it.
I just know I need to get away.
My feet carry me forward on instinct, the halls familiar despite how long it’s been since I’ve walked them. Olivia follows without question, matching my stride, her presence steadying me.
I don’t realize where I’m taking her until I stop in front of my childhood room. I haven’t been inside in years.Not since…
I exhale sharply and force the thought away.
