I don’t say much. Not ‘cause I’m rude—just never saw the point in adding noise for the sake of it. Most people talk to hear themselves. I don’t. I speak when it matters.

And this mattered.

Hughie had just legged it out the door, keys in hand, mumbling something about collecting the takeaway because the app was “bollocksing the order.” Typical. I stayed on the couch for a minute, phone in hand but not really looking at it.

I could hear her in the kitchen. Cupboards opening. Silence. Fridge door, maybe. Then nothing again.

I got up. Not in a dramatic way, just—quiet steps. Like always.

She was standing near the sink when I walked in, back turned, hands fidgeting with the corner of the counter like she didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Hey,” I said.

She looked over her shoulder, startled. “Oh. Hi.”

That was it. No small talk. No fake smile. Just her, looking like she wanted to fold in on herself.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Watched her for a second. She wasn’t doing anything really—just pretending to keep busy. And maybe that’s what finally made me say something.

“You’ve not eaten, have you?”

She froze. Didn’t answer right away. That was answer enough.

“I wasn’t hungry,” she muttered. Voice too casual. Too rehearsed.

I didn’t react straight away. Just kept my eyes on her. Quiet.

“You keep saying that,” I said finally. “Every time we’re all together. Every time food’s involved. You’re always not hungry.”

She stiffened. “Patrick—”

“I’m not trying to be a dick,” I said quickly. “I’m just saying it ‘cause no one else will. Hughie doesn’t see it. Doesn’t mean he’s a bad lad. Just means he’s not looking the same way I am.”

She turned then. Properly. And her face—God, it made something twist in me. She looked tired. Not sleep-tired. The other kind. The heavy kind.

“I’m fine,” she said, so quietly it barely came out.

“You’re not.” I said it without flinching. Not loud. Not harsh. “And you don’t have to explain it to me. I just want you to stop pretending you’re fine when you’re not.”

There was a long pause.

Then: “Why do you care?”

I let the silence settle before answering. “Because I see you.”

She looked like she might cry. Or hit me. Or both.

“And because I did care,” I added, softer now. “Before Hughie. Before all of it. Still do, if I’m being honest.”

That was the first time I said it out loud. Maybe the only time I’d ever say it. But it felt right. Like she deserved to hear it once.

She didn’t say anything. Just nodded, eyes glossy, breathing a bit uneven.

I pushed off the wall, walked over to the counter, and opened the cupboard above her head. Pulled down the only snack in there that looked half decent. Left it beside her, didn’t look at her when I did.

“Don’t need to finish it. Just… don’t starve to keep up the act.”