Chapter 13 A Lie to Protect
A LIE TO PROTECT
ROWAN
If your heart were a room, what would it look like?
ChaosInPurple: My heart would be a small-town library with creaky floors.
It’d be a reminder of old books and quiet afternoons, where the stories feel familiar and a little magical all at once.
The kind of place where you can curl up by the window during a rainstorm and truly believe that every story—even the messy ones—eventually finds its happy ending.
A few hours earlier
I step out of Violet’s room with my heart pounding so loud it feels like it might echo down the hallway.
She wants to move in with me.
Out of everyone, including her friends, she chose me.
The thought loops in my head, relentless and dizzying.
She’s temporary, Ro. Don’t read too much into it.
But for once, even my self-preservation instinct is struggling to get its footing.
She knows about my mutism. She’s seen the pauses. The typing. The silence that makes most people uncomfortable. And still, she’s choosing me.
I can’t believe that somewhere in the chaos of her broken memories, she found safety in me. She called me her lighthouse, like I’m something stable instead of a man who’s constantly afraid he’ll fail when it matters most.
She said moving forward with me is the only way she knows how to move forward at all.
My hands shake as I pull out my phone and open the FYS app. The last conversation sits there, unchanged, innocent in its timing and devastating in its implications. Right now, Violet believes that after our date, we’d decided to get engaged.
What she doesn’t know is that the date never happened. That the future she’s holding on to was built partly on assumption and partly on hope.
I close my eyes, and her face comes back to me instantly.
How she woke up, wide-eyed, disoriented, and most of all… frightened. Yet she’s somehow seeking a safe space in our connection. How will she stand when she learns the ground beneath that belief isn’t as solid as she thinks?
Fuck, I can’t do that to her now. Not when she’s already lost everything. Not when she’s using us as a way to find herself again.
Rowan: I need you to do something for me.
Her reply comes instantly.
Rory: Shoot.
Rowan: It might not be morally correct.
The three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear. They bounce as if matching the rhythm of her pacing on the other side of the screen.
That hesitation is pure Rory, aka Aurora Teager, Alex’s younger sister, my little cousin, and one of the best programmers in the world. That’s not my opinion but the opinion of people who actually know what they’re talking about.
She’s ranked among the best coders in the world based on competitions so brutal they make grown men quit coding altogether.
She goes by a screen name for privacy, but companies and organizations are still continuously trying to track her down and hire her.
Alex once showed us an online post that declared Rory a national secret that needed protection.
Even though we laughed at the absurdity of it, Alex quietly upped Rory’s security.
Rory: Is this morally wrong but for the greater good of mankind?
My lips twitch. Rory is soft-hearted, painfully kind, and somehow still the most terrifyingly capable person in any room, without realizing her own capabilities.
Rowan: It might be for the greater good of one man.
I can already picture her chewing on her bottom lip, brows pulled together.
Rory: Is it okay if I hear what you want first and then decide?
Relief loosens something in my chest. She hasn’t said no. Not yet.
Rowan: Sure.
I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Rory won’t agree until she thinks my request is justified. She will measure my request against her moral compass, turn it over from every angle until she’s satisfied it won’t break someone in the process.
And that makes me feel a little better.
Rowan: I want you to hack an online matchmaking site, Find Your Soulmate, and delete a few messages between two profiles.
Her reply is immediate.
Rory: I’m guessing one of the profiles is yours, right?
I exhale slowly, my fingers hovering before committing to the truth.
Rowan: Yes.
There’s a pause. I can practically hear the gears turning in her head, morality and curiosity grinding against each other.
Rory: Is it good? The site, I mean.
Of all the questions she could ask, that one surprises me.
Rowan: Are you interested?
Rory: Of course I am.
I wait for her to explain. I’ve never heard even a whisper about a boyfriend, but if Rory ever decided to step into the dating world, there would be a queue of interested men.
Rory: I’ve heard people talk about it in the coding circles. Apparently, the algorithm is insane. State of the art. I’ll admit, I’m very tempted, but I need more. Isn’t it a little extreme to hack a company’s website and delete their data?
My fingers curl around the phone.
Rowan: It’s not that simple.
If it were simple, I wouldn’t be here.
Rory: Then explain, Ro, and I’ll decide whether it’s worth helping you or not.
I didn’t expect anything less from her. So I tell her everything.
I tell her how at Quill’s birthday party I became aware of FYS. I tell her about the lonely evening when I made my profile, convinced it would amount to nothing, just another quiet experiment to pass the hours. I tell her about the email weeks later, about ChaosInPurple.
I tell her how three months slipped by unnoticed, filling the dark, hollow spaces in me with color and hope.
Finally, I tell her about the moment I found out who Purple really was.
Rory: I cannot believe an international matchmaking app paired you with Violet Harper.
Rowan: I was completely unhinged. I still am.
It feels like the universe played the cruelest joke imaginable, lined everything up perfectly just to watch me unravel.
Rory: I’m sure it must have been a shock.
Shock is too small of a word to explain how I felt. It was more like the ground beneath my feet disappearing completely.
Rowan: Violet just woke up without knowing her own name.
She’s holding on to us like we’re oxygen.
If I pull that away right now, I’m afraid of what it might do to her.
I’m just buying us some time, Rory. I don’t want to build a life on a lie.
I won’t do that to us. But I need her stable before I drop something that could destabilize her further.
Rory: But what if she finds out before you tell her?
I rake a hand through my hair, fingers tangling at the roots. My body feels too small for everything pressing against it. The dread of the future, the guilt of the present, and the terror of losing her twice.
Rowan: I hope that doesn’t happen. I don’t plan to hide it from her much longer. But if the truth does come out, then I’ll own it without any excuses.
Rory: You swear you’re telling her soon?
Rowan: Yes. As soon as she’s settled in my home and she’s not flinching at every small sound in this hospital.
There’s another long pause.
Rory: She doesn’t remember anything?
My throat tightens as I type.
Rowan: No.
Rory: God, Ro. I can’t even imagine living a single day without remembering Dad, Mom, Alex and you all. But I’d still like you to think about this again. I’ll give you ten minutes. If you really want me to do it, text me again. Until then, I won’t touch anything.
Thank God.
She agreed.
Rowan: Will ten minutes be enough for you? I heard from Vincent Belmont that the website is extremely secure.
Her reply comes back instantly.
Rory: I’m already in.
Despite everything clawing at me, my lips twitch. Why did I ever doubt her?
Rowan: So, you can read my messages?
I hate how exposed I feel.
Rory: I can but I won’t. That’s your private life, Ro. I thought you knew me better. Just tell me the date and time of what you want gone.
Rowan: Do it, little sis.
As promised, she replies exactly after ten minutes.
Rory: Everything’s done.
I open the FYS app and, as expected, everything else is gone from the chat. The last conversation is of Violet asking where I am. In response, I tell her that I’m on my way and will be there soon.
I slip the phone back into my pocket, ignoring the guilt and reminding my inner self that I’m going to tell her everything soon, before we fall deeper for each other—or into this lie.