Page 70 of When Love Found Us
She shrugs all mock innocence. “What? I just think it’s funny that you got married and didn’t tell any of us. Especially me, your best friend.”
Blythe exhales quietly. I feel it—the smallest shift—her moving just a fraction closer.
Subtle. But I notice.
And so do they.
Hopper finally steps forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder before turning to Blythe. His gaze isn’t unkind, just assessing.
“Welcome to the family, Blythe. We’re a weird bunch, but if you can stand this asshole, you can stand us,” he states.
“Daddy said a bad word,” Maddy states. “You owe a dollar to the jar.”
“Just throw a hundred in the jar and give yourself a free week,” Ledger says, then turns to Blythe. “Are you hungry?”
She hesitates, her fingers twitching slightly before she nods.
“Good,” he says, nodding toward the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”
And just like that, things aren’t as tense as they were when we arrived.
Dinner looks normal.Too fucking normal. Too fucking happy-small-town-family, if that’s a thing.
Lasagna, salad, and even fresh bread—Delilah’s doing, I’m sure. The whole spread is too put together, too much like some family tradition. Which it isn’t.
The only traditions we had growing up involved waiting to see who would get knocked around first. And if it wasn’t by our father, it was by each other.
This place has never been home. At least not to me. Even when Therese tried her damn hardest, it never happened.
Blythe sits beside me, her posture poised but at ease. Playing her part too well. She’s good at this—at slipping into whatever role she needs to survive. I see it all. The way her fingers brush the edge of her napkin like she’s braising herself. The way her shoulders drop just enough to look relaxed but not vulnerable.
Ledger watches her like he’s picking her apart.
Like he’s waiting for us to make a mistake of some sorts.
“So,” he starts, cutting into his steak with practiced ease. His tone is casual, but his eyes aren’t. “How long were you planning on keeping this marriage a secret?”
I open my mouth, about to say forever, when Blythe beats me to it.
“It’s been an unexpected . . . adjustment,” she says smoothly, reaching for her water. “We’ve been settling in, figuring out life here, and honestly, we didn’t think about the outside until now.”
Ledger’s brow lifts, his amusement barely masked. “Oh, yeah?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. He looks even more animated about this conversation. “And when did this whirlwind romance start?”
Okay, so he’s just being an asshole. My grip tightens around my fork, the dull edge pressing into my palm. A slow burn spreads through my chest. Ledger’s waiting for a reaction. He wants a fight.
“What’s with the interrogation?” My voice stays level, but every nerve in my body coils, ready to snap. “I thought we were here to have a somehow normal family dinner.”
“I’m wondering if you’re just pretending to play family, so we’ll give you your share of the Old Birchwood Timber Company,” Ledger says almost casually.
There it is.
“Fuck you,” I growl, my voice low, the words slicing through the space between us.
Hopper’s voice cuts in, clipped and sharp. “Stop,” he says, probably to Ledger, or maybe it’s to me. Who the fuck knows?
Ledger pushes back from the table, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor. His stance shifts, muscles tensing, hands flexing at his sides. He’s deciding whether to throw a punch.
Blythe flinches.
