“That one,” he says vaguely. “Like someone’s replaced your internal organs.”
Rob nods eagerly. “Yes. Soft.”
“I am not soft.”
Chris snorts into his pint.
Alex clears his throat.
“So,” Rob says casually. “Christina.”
I take a drink.
“Yes.”
He waits.
I wait.
Nick tilts his head.
“You held her hand,” he says.
“It’s allowed.”
Emma leans forward. “It’s encouraged,” she corrects. “Healthy relationships thrive on physical affection.” She says the word relationship deliberately.
I feel it land somewhere behind my ribs, heavier than the rest of the conversation. Because she isn’t one of them. She isn’t just part of the team. She’s Christina’s person. The one who was there long before I was.
Nick notices the shift immediately, of course.
“Well,” he says, leaning back in his chair, “this is new. Emma using professional terminology. It must be serious.”
Emma doesn’t look at him.
Beside her, Alex hides a small smile in his glass, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment and is determined not to interfere.
Rob, on the other hand, has no such restraint.
“A relationship,” he repeats, clearly enjoying himself. “Phil. In a relationship.”
He shakes his head, impressed.
“I honestly didn’t think I’d see the day.”
I take a drink, partly to give myself something to do with my hands, partly to buy time.
“I didn’t either,” Nick says cheerfully.
Chris glances between them.
“It makes sense,” he says simply.
Rob turns to him.
“Based on what evidence?”
Chris shrugs. “He looks different.”