Dottie shifted then, climbing carefully across the cushion and settling closer to me, her small body warm against my side as she pressed in without hesitation.
I let my hand fall to her head automatically, my fingers brushing through the soft fur between her ears.
“She doesn’t think it’s bad,” Lucy added.
“That’s because she has no concept of long-term consequences.”
“That’s because she understands emotional support,” Lucy corrected.
Dottie huffed softly, like she agreed with that version more.
I exhaled again, slower this time.
Then—“He thought I knew,” I said.
Her brows lifted a fraction higher. “Of course he did.”
I let out a breath that almost passed for a laugh but didn’t quite make it there.
“Of course he did,” I echoed.
Silence stretched for a second, the fire filling it with soft, steady sound.
Then—“And he just… said it?” Lucy pressed.
“In a restaurant,” I replied flatly. “In front of my father.”
Lucy winced. “Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
My gaze dropped to the floor, tracking the way the light shifted across the hardwood in uneven bands, my brain trying—failing—to line anything up into something that made sense.
I pushed up slightly from the couch, the movement restless, my body unable to stay still under the pressure building in my chest.
“This ruins everything,” I cried, my eyes stinging, my ears ringing. “My job—my credibility—everything I’ve worked for—this—” I gestured vaguely, like I could point to the problem and make it smaller. “This proves every single thing they already think about me.”
Lucy’s gaze sharpened. “What do they think about you?”
“That I didn’t earn anything,” I shot back immediately. “That I got here because of proximity. Because I know the right people. Because I’m?—”
Lucy’s expression shifted, something firmer settling in behind her eyes. “Say it,” she pushed.
I exhaled sharply, my jaw tightening before I forced it outanyway. “They think I slept my way into the room,” I said flatly. “And now this—” I laughed once, hollow. “Now this makes it look like I stayed there.”
“That’s not what this is,” she assured.
“It doesn’t matter what it is,” I snapped. “It matters what it looks like.”
“To who?”
“To everyone.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is when your entire career depends on perception.”
Lucy leaned forward slightly, her hand falling away from Dottie as her attention locked fully onto me. “Your career depends on your work.”