The sound of the bedroom door creaking open wasn’t supposed to happen.

Emma freezes where she’s sitting beside you on the bed, her fingers still laced loosely with yours. You barely had time to shift apart before Mikey’s voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“What the hell is this?”

Emma’s eyes go wide. She stands up quickly, heart slamming against her ribs.

“Mikey, wait—”

But he’s already storming in, eyes dark, jaw clenched. He doesn’t look at her — not at first. His gaze is locked on you.

“You seriously thought I wouldn’t find out? That you could sneak around behind my back? With my sister?”

Emma steps in front of him, hands on his chest. “It wasn’t like that! You don’t understand, Mikey—”

“No, Emma. You don’t understand.” His voice cracks, equal parts fury and hurt. “You don’t get to risk everything for someone who’s just gonna—”

“They’re not like that.” Her voice is firmer now. Sharper. More certain than she’s ever been in front of him.

“You don’t know how they treat me. You don’t see how careful they are with me — how much I matter to them. You don’t have to like it, Mikey, but you don’t get to decide for me.”

Mikey stares at her like she’s someone he doesn’t quite recognize. Someone who grew up when he wasn’t looking.

“So that’s it?” he mutters. “You pick them over me?”

Emma’s eyes well up, but she doesn’t back down.

“No. I’m not picking sides.” She turns, reaching for your hand again — grounding herself.

“But I’m not hiding anymore either.”

The room is heavy with silence. Mikey doesn’t respond. Just stares at the two of you, pain flickering beneath the anger.

And Emma holds your hand a little tighter, even as her voice shakes:

“…If you want to protect me, then trust me. This is who I chose.”