Happiness #2
The host’s smile sharpened knowingly. “Your social media announcement nearly broke the internet.”
Declan winced slightly beside her. “Yeah, that was… a lot.”
Riley tilted her head a fraction. “The response appeared statistically disproportionate to the variable.”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “That’s one way to put it.”
Another wave of laughter echoed from the audience through the television speakers before the host leaned forward slightly, her expression softening.
“But I do have one final question.”
Her gaze shifted between them more carefully this time, the energy of the interview settling into something quieter.
“After everything, what would you say was the most important outcome of this experiment?”
There was a brief pause, before Declan answered first, “Her.”
Onscreen, Riley didn’t retreat inward or pause to organise a response into something safer, she simply looked at him fully for a moment before turning back toward the host.
“Him.”
The interview ended gently after that, less like a conclusion and more like the final note of something that had already said everything it needed to.
For a second, the living room stayed quiet, then Dee groaned loudly, dragging both hands down her face.
“Oh my god,” she complained. “That was actually sickening. You’re both unbearable.”
Tyler snorted from the opposite end of the couch. “Seriously. I need warning next time. That was intense.”
Leanne turned on them instantly, wiping under her eyes with absolutely no embarrassment. “That was beautiful,” she informed them thickly before narrowing her gaze. “You two are emotionally stunted.”
“I’m just saying,” Dee shot back, pointing accusingly toward the television, “if I have to watch one more soft little longing stare—”
“There were no stares,” Riley said calmly.
“There were at least twelve,” Tyler cut in immediately.
“It was what you’d call ‘statistically prolonged eye contact’,” Dee added, like that somehow made the situation significantly worse.
Declan laughed quietly beside her, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “You’re all just jealous.”
“Of what?” Tyler asked flatly. “Open communication?”
“Yes,” Leanne snapped. “Try it sometime.”
From the floor, Ebony still hadn’t looked away from the television screen. “I found it informative,” she said quietly.
That finally dissolved the room into softer laughter, the teasing energy easing into something warmer now, more familiar than chaotic.
Riley’s attention drifted back toward the television, though the interview already ended, replaced seamlessly by another segment.
Her gaze lingered there for a moment longer, but her focus didn’t.
It remained somewhere quieter, detached from the movement on the screen and the ongoing noise of the room around her.
The room itself hadn’t really settled either.
Leanne was already enthusiastically recounting her favourite part of the interview to Charlie despite the fact he had been sitting beside her the entire time.
Dee had immediately joined in, adding increasingly exaggerated details that had absolutely not happened.
Tyler continued trying unsuccessfully to correct both of them while being ignored in real time.
Ebony, meanwhile, had shifted her attention entirely. She was watching Riley now, calmly observant, like she had already noticed something Riley herself was only just beginning to fully understand.
Riley registered all of it without effort. Without sorting it, or the need to analyse the social dynamics. No need to mentally organise each interaction into something structured and interpretive. It simply existed around her.
And then, without thinking about it, she leaned slightly into Declan’s side. The movement was small enough it likely would have gone unnoticed by anyone else in the room. Just a subtle adjustment of weight, her shoulder settling more firmly against him.
But to Riley, it felt strangely significant, instinctive, like some part of her had stopped searching for where it belonged because it had already found it.
Declan’s hand tightened lightly around hers in immediate response. No hesitation or acknowledgement that it was unusual or noteworthy. Just quiet acceptance like this, too, had become instinctive for him.
Riley exhaled slowly, feeling herself settle further into the contact, noticing only distantly that the tension she once would have carried in a moment like this simply… wasn’t there anymore.
Six months, that was what the segment had originally been, a hypothesis designed to prove a point. And somehow, somewhere between the data collection and the lived experience of it all, the experiment had stopped being about proving anything at all.
The results were valid. The research would be published, the framework they had built together applied far beyond the scope of their original experiment. By every measurable standard they established at the beginning, the outcome was successful.
And yet, Riley found herself caring less about the publication itself than the life that had formed around it. Her gaze drifted away from the television, settling instead on the room around her.
On Leanne, who had fully turned toward Charlie now, speaking with animated hands and easy warmth that somehow filled the space without overwhelming it.
On Dee, who had clearly abandoned factual accuracy ten minutes ago and was now arguing purely for entertainment value, her grin sharp with satisfaction every time Tyler reacted.
On Tyler himself, still attempting to restore order despite the fact nobody else seemed interested in having any, though there was less resistance in him now, more familiarity in the way he remained part of the chaos anyway.
On Ebony, who was still quietly watching her.
Her people. The thought settled into place naturally.
There had been a time Riley would have examined it immediately, dissected the emotional implication, tested it for exaggeration or misinterpretation.
Now, it simply existed, steady and certain.
Something warm expanded quietly beneath her ribs as she looked at them, familiar enough now that she no longer felt compelled to reduce it into something easier to quantify.
Agreeing to that segment had altered the trajectory of her life in ways no model could have reasonably predicted.
The research itself had changed, too. It was no longer theoretical or clinically distant, it had become something lived, shaped through experience rather than detached observation. The framework worked because they had lived inside it. Because she had.
And because of him.
The thought arrived cleanly now. Her fingers shifted slightly in Declan’s hand, the movement deliberate enough to pull his attention immediately. He looked down at her at once, like he always did, as though her smallest movement instinctively redirected him back toward her.
Riley turned her head slightly to meet his gaze. There was no instinct to over-prepare the moment anymore, no need to refine the feeling into something safer before allowing it to exist aloud.
“I love you,” she said. The words settled between them easily.
Declan’s expression softened instantly, warmth moving across his face so openly it made something inside her chest tighten again. His hand closed slightly around hers, thumb brushing once against her skin in a quiet acknowledgement that somehow carried more weight than anything louder could have.
Riley held his gaze for another second, letting herself stay there fully instead of retreating inward the way she once would have. Then, softer this time, she spoke again.
“Hey, Declan?”
“Yeah, Riles?” His answer came instinctively, easy and familiar.
Riley looked at him for a moment longer, something quiet and complete settling fully into place inside her.
“I’m really glad you made that bet.”