Page 56 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
You’d think he was deflecting because he didn’t want intimacy.
That’s not it.
I know him well enough now to know: he’s deflecting because he’s afraid ofhow much he cares.
And that scares him.
It should scare me too.
“Work,” I say, hoping to ground us both. “Board meeting this afternoon. Tidball is… hopeful.”
He snorts — quiet, but unmistakable.
“‘Hopeful,’” he mocks under his breath.
I glance at him, eyebrows raised.
“What?” he asks, as though I’ve caught him in something he didn’t mean to admit.
“You sound amused,” I say.
He shrugs — the barest movement — but it’s enough.
“Hope is for people with vacations,” he says. “And weekends.”
I almost laugh.
But then Tidball’s face flashes behind my eyelids.
And the humor dissipates.
“It’s not a joke,” I say, a little sharper than I intended.
He turns his face toward me then — not fully, just the angle that lets me see his profile, jaw tense, eyes thoughtful.
“Itisa joke,” he says, quiet but pointed. “A bad one.”
I don’t challenge him.
Not because I agree.
But because it’s true.
I feel the weariness in my bones.
The truth of how thin I’m holding everything together.
“Are you… okay?” I ask suddenly, surprising even myself.
He freezes — not like someone caught, but like someone who didn’texpectto be asked.
For a long moment he doesn’t answer.
Then he says, slowly, “I’m holding up.”
His voice is a carefully constructed fortress.
Sturdy.
