Laughter #2
Dee’s expression softened further, something steady settling in.
“If you want to be part of that family,” she said, “then I’ll be part of it with you.
I’m not going anywhere,” She took a breath.
“Because you are my family,” Dee added, more firmly this time.
“You don’t ever have to choose between us.
There isn’t a version of your life where I’m not in it. ”
Riley didn’t try to organise the feeling this time, didn’t instinctively reach for structure or distance to make it easier to process.
She just let it exist. “Okay,” she said softly. “That… means more than I can explain.”
Dee smiled, her thumb brushing lightly over Riley’s arm before she finally let go. “Good. You don’t have to explain it.”
Riley let out a small breath as something in her chest eased, her shoulders lowering with a steadiness that still felt unfamiliar enough to notice.
Dee watched her for another second, quiet this time, like she was allowing herself to fully take in the change instead of joking past it.
Really seeing her. Then something brighter broke across her expression too quickly to suppress, warmth overtaking the careful observation as the corners of her mouth lifted.
“Okay,” she said, her voice shifting, energy returning all at once. “Tell me everything. I want all the juicy information.”
Riley blinked once, the shift almost disorienting in its contrast. “All of it?”
Dee grinned. “All of it,” she confirmed. “You confessed your feelings, he said he loves you, and you didn’t run? I’ve earned details.”
Something in Riley’s expression softened. Dee dropped back onto the couch, patting the space beside her expectantly. “Start from the beginning.”
?
The apartment softened around them, the atmosphere easing into something warmer, more lived-in.
The tension that threaded itself through the past few weeks no longer sat so tightly wound beneath every interaction.
It loosened at the edges, unravelling slowly enough that the shift felt less like a resolution and more like the quiet release that followed one.
Dee had fully claimed the couch, one leg tucked under her, a bowl of popcorn balanced in her lap as she ate with absolutely no restraint, eyes flicking between Riley and whatever point she was trying to make.
Riley sat beside her, still more composed than most people would have been, but no longer rigid in it. The tension that once held her so carefully together had eased into something quieter now, something lived-in. She didn’t feel out of place.
She just felt present within it instead of adjacent to it.
A low hum sat beneath her skin, familiar enough now that she recognised it immediately as anticipation.
It didn’t overwhelm her or pull her off balance.
It simply existed, steady and contained, threading quietly through her awareness as the room moved around her.
“This is actually offensive,” Dee muttered, tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.
Riley glanced at her. “Can you clarify?”
“You disappear for, what, a few weeks?” Dee continued, gesturing vaguely with a handful of popcorn. “Come back emotionally evolved, confess your feelings, and now you have a man who is obsessed with you.”
Riley processed that. “He is not—”
“He is,” Dee cut in. “Don’t undermine my narrative, I’m already struggling.”
Riley’s lips pressed together faintly, not quite a smile, but close.
“My love life,” Dee went on dramatically, “is non-existent. Tragic, a wasteland, and you’re out here accidentally falling into a healthy relationship.”
“I did not do it accidentally,” Riley said. “There were several contributing factors.”
Dee stared at her. “Oh my god, where do I find a Declan?” she demanded.
Riley considered that seriously for a moment. “Tyler is currently available.”
Dee froze mid-bite. Slowly lowered the popcorn. “I would rather shoot myself in the foot and run naked through the city,” she said flatly.
“That seems like an extreme response.”
“It’s an extremely valid response,” Dee shot back. “Do you know how much I value my peace?”
Riley tilted her head slightly. “You voluntarily maintain proximity to me.”
Dee pointed at her immediately. “That is different, you’re my emotional support human.”
“I was not aware that was my designated role.”
“Well, it is,” Dee said, shoving more popcorn into her mouth. “And you’re doing great job, sweetie.”
Riley huffed out the smallest breath of amusement, her gaze drifting unintentionally toward the door. Dee caught it instantly.
“Oh my god,” she said, leaning forward slightly. “You’re waiting for him.”
Riley didn’t deny it. “Yes.”
Dee made a soft, delighted noise, like this was the best possible outcome. “You are so gone.”
“I am not—” Riley started, then stopped.
Because that wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
Before she could respond further, the sound of her phone cut through the moment.
Both of them looked down at it. Declan. She reached for the phone without hesitation, her thumb hovering for half a second before answering.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hey, Riles.” The nickname landed warm and familiar enough to settle somewhere deep in her chest before she could properly process it.
Riley’s grip tightened slightly around her phone as something in her expression gave way, softening so visibly that it was noticed almost instantly from Dee on the other side of the couch.
“Hi,” Riley said, quieter.
There was a faint smile in Declan’s voice when he spoke again. “Are you still home?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he said. There was a brief pause before he added, more casually this time, “I need you and Dee to do me a favour and open the door.”
Riley blinked. Her gaze lifted slowly toward Dee. “I am currently inside the apartment,” she said. “The door is not obstruct—”
“Riley,” he cut in, laughter threading through his voice now, “both of you need to open the door.”
She paused. “Okay.” She ended the call, her gaze shifting to Dee. “Declan has instructed that we open the door together,” she said.
Dee narrowed her eyes. “That sounds suspicious.”
“Yes.” They looked at each other, then toward the door, and both stood anyway.
Riley pulled it open and stopped instantly, because standing in the hallway were Leanne, Declan, and Tyler.
Except Tyler was not standing there voluntarily. He was being dragged forward by the ear. By Leanne.
Riley blinked once, then again, the image in front of her failed to align with any existing behavioural framework she had established for the individuals involved.
Leanne Montgomery, consistently composed, patient, and objectively one of the kindest people Riley had ever encountered, was currently hauling a fully grown AFL player down the hallway one-handed with the calm efficiency of someone escorting a badly behaved child out of a supermarket.
“Keep moving,” Leanne snapped, not even looking at him.
“I am moving,” Tyler muttered, trying and failing to pry her hand from his ear. “You’ve got a grip like a vice—”
“Good,” she shot back. “You’ll remember this then.”
Riley stayed where she was, one hand still holding the door open as her brain attempted to reorganise the scene in front of her into something coherent.
It was failing quite significantly. None of this aligned cleanly with the existing behavioural data she had collected on any of the three individuals involved.
Behind her, Dee leaned sideways to look past her shoulder and immediately made a strangled sound that was unmistakably suppressed laughter. “Oh my god,” came the whispered response, completely unrestrained despite the volume.
Across the room, Declan caught Riley’s eye over the unfolding disaster. His expression hovered somewhere between apology and poorly concealed amusement, like he had seen this outcome coming well in advance and had consciously decided to let it happen anyway.
Her internal response was something unexpected. She laughed. It left her bright, sudden, completely unstructured, her hand lifting halfway to her mouth as if she could catch the sound and put it back.
Declan’s gaze snapped to her instantly, and he smiled.
Not the controlled, easy version she was used to, but something fuller, warmer.
Like seeing that, seeing her laughing, unguarded, present meant more than anything else happening in the room.
The feeling settled somewhere beyond her usual instinct to immediately analyse it, her chest tightening slightly around something warmer this time.
Tyler cleared his throat awkwardly, the sound pulling the room gently back into motion. Leanne released his ear with a final, pointed shove forward.
“Well?” she said sharply.
Tyler straightened slightly, rolling one shoulder back like he was trying to settle into himself again. The defensiveness had gone out of him now, the sharpness stripped away, leaving behind something quieter that Riley recognised immediately as genuine.
He looked at Dee. “I was out of line,” he said, the apology delivered plainly, more like a fact he had accepted than something performative. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” he continued, his voice steadier now. “And I definitely shouldn’t have said what I said about your work.”
Dee didn’t move immediately. Riley noticed it at once, the subtle adjustment in the way she held herself. Not guarded exactly, but careful now in a way she hadn’t been before. Tyler exhaled once, dragging a hand briefly over the back of his neck.
“I don’t think you were wrong,” he admitted quietly. “About Ebony. I think I just…” He shook his head once, frustration turning inward now instead of outward. “I didn’t like hearing it from someone I didn’t know. And I took that out on you.”
A small pause. “And calling you crazy?” His jaw tightened. “That wasn’t okay. At all.”