The house didn’t feel as foreign when we got back.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Not completely familiar.
Not comfortable.
But… less overwhelming.
Like I was starting to find my place in it.
And that was more unsettling than anything else.
“You’re quiet,” Max said as we stepped inside.
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s becoming a pattern.”
“You encouraged it.”
“I encouraged honesty,” he corrected.
“This is honesty.”
He glanced at me. “Then say it.”
I hesitated.
Because I wasn’t sure I liked what I was about to admit.
“It didn’t feel fake,” I said finally.
A pause.
Then—
“What didn’t?” he asked.
“Today,” I said. “The way we acted. The way people saw us.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“And that’s a problem?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not real.”
He didn’t respond straig
