๐ซ๐ข๐งโ๐ฌ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ญ๐, faint embarrassment twisting her features for a microsecond despite herself. โokay,โ she said, too quickly. then, because that sounded insane, she added, โwell. good for her.โ good for her? jesus christ. โalso, you should not be bending down like that. you have a head injury.โ she pointed at him, grateful for the change in subject, even if she had invented it herself. โand writing emails is working. thatโs literally one of the main forms work takes in the modern age. what, do you think it only counts if youโre in a little coal mine with a pickaxe?โ she rolled her eyes, but it came from a place of concern. โjealous?โ rin repeated, brows lifting. โwhat are we, sixteen?โ she said it like the idea was ridiculous. like she had not, moments ago, stood downstairs holding takeout and quietly decided she hated a woman for opening harryโs door. โanyway, why would i immediately assume cousin?โ she asked, moving farther into the room. โfor all i know, she couldโve been an ex.โ rin set the bag down on a dresser, letting it rest for a moment. โor whatever. someone from your past. i donโt know your whole life.โ that was the problem, maybe. she knew pieces of him. the work version. the version that bickered with her and pushed back and knew exactly how to get under her skin. she did not know the women who let themselves into his house, or got called when he was injured. she assumed she was the only one, but was she wrong to? technically, they werenโt anything official. โnot that i care,โ she added, too late to make it believable. โspeaking of,โ she said, tone shifting. โi saw gwen at the hospital.โ she watched him carefully, trying to make it look casual and failing by maybe half an inch. โdid she mention that?โ