The motel room smelled faintly of sunscreen and the salt still clinging to your skin from earlier. The blinds were half-closed, letting streaks of late-afternoon light stripe across the faded carpet. Conrad had gone to grab snacks from the vending machine down the hall, leaving just you and Jeremiah in the too small, too quiet space.

You were perched on the edge of the bed, scrolling your phone without really reading anything. Jeremiah was across the room, leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed, only he wasn’t really leaning, he was bracing himself there, like the conversation brewing in his head was too heavy for him to stand without support.

You caught him watching you for the third time. “What?” you asked, a half-smile tugging at your lips, though it faded quickly when you saw the seriousness in his eyes.

“Do you… ever think about him?” His voice was quiet, careful.

“Conrad?” you said, more to clarify than out of confusion.

Jeremiah’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. Him.” You set your phone down, sighing. “Not like that, Jere. I told you—”

“I know what you told me,” he cut in, his voice sharper than you’d heard it in a while. “But I also see the way he looks at you. Like you’re something he lost and he’s just waiting for the chance to take back.” He shoved a hand through his hair, frustration spilling out in every movement. “And maybe part of me is scared he’s right. That you’ll wake up one day and realize you still want him.”

Your chest tightened. “I’m with you.”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “For now. But he’s my brother. We’ve been through everything together, and the second it feels like I’m standing in his way…” He stopped, swallowing hard. “You can clearly see he still loves you. How can you be mine when he still thinks you’re his?”

You stood, meeting him in the middle of the cramped space. “Because I chose you. Not him. Not anyone else. You.”

Jeremiah’s eyes flicked over your face like he was memorizing you, maybe for fear this was the last time he’d get to. “You say that, but—” His voice broke slightly. “I’m scared I’m just the… safer choice. The easier choice. That you don’t actually want to fight for me the way I’d fight for you.”

That hit deeper than you expected, enough to make your own voice falter. “Jeremiah Fisher, I am not with you because it’s easy. I’m with you because I love you. And yeah, maybe it’s complicated because of Conrad, but that doesn’t change what I feel for you.” He searched your face for any sign of doubt, something to confirm his fears. But all he found was your steady gaze.

“You have no idea how badly I want to believe that,” he whispered, his hand hovering at your cheek before he let it drop, like he wasn’t sure he had the right to touch you in this moment. “Then believe it,” you said softly.

The faint clunk of the vending machine down the hall made you both freeze. In seconds, Conrad would be back. Jeremiah straightened, retreating a step, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, pleading, desperate, and terrified all at once.

When Conrad finally walked in, arms full of snacks, his gaze flicked between the two of you, and the air in the room instantly shifted. You could almost hear the unspoken words in the silence: Jeremiah was ready to fight for you. The only question was; would you let him?