Chapter 92 Between Us

Chapter 92 Between Us

Chloe

The front door closed behind Billy, leaving the kitchen so quiet that I could hear the refrigerator cycling on behind me.

Max remained at the table with his phone facedown beside one hand. He had listened to my entire confession without interrupting, yet his expression had revealed almost nothing. He did not appear angry, but that did little to settle the unease twisting through me. His silence might have meant forgiveness, indifference, or simply that he was waiting for us to leave before deciding what he thought.

Daniel stayed near the counter, he already knew what I needed to say next. We had agreed Max deserved a warning, even though telling him meant admitting that one more person had learned the secret he had fought so hard to protect.

I drew in a deep breath and crossed to the table. When I sat in the chair across from him, Max finally lifted his eyes to mine.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” I said. “I waited until Billy left because it concerns you personally, and no one else should hear it.”

His posture changed almost imperceptibly. His shoulders stiffened, and the fingers resting near his phone curled slightly against the tabletop.

“What is it?”

“I received an email through the podcast account last night.” I forced myself to hold his gaze, even as dread gathered in my stomach. “It exposed your relationship with Liam.”

The color drained from his face.

For several seconds, he did not move or speak. The only reaction he gave was a single blink, slower than normal, as though his mind had stalled on the words and needed time to catch up.

“The person who sent it wanted me to use the podcast to expose both of you,” I continued. “They said Liam was tired of hiding and believed forcing everything into the open would make you acknowledge the relationship publicly.”

Max’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent.

“I didn’t publish it,” I said quickly. “I couldn’t. What happened between James, Maya, Billy, and Annabelle and the guy giving those girls STD’s came from choices people made that hurt others. 

Whether I had the right to expose those choices is a separate issue, but I could at least pretend I was revealing malicious behavior that had been covered up. Your relationship isn’t wrongdoing. It’s deeply personal, and it belongs to you and Liam.”

His eyes dropped toward the table.

“That email was what finally made me understand how completely wrong the podcast had become,” I continued. “Knowing something about another person does not make it mine to share. Exposing you would not have held anyone accountable. It would have taken away your ability to decide when you were ready, and once I realized that, I could not justify any of it anymore.”

Max’s breathing had changed, each inhale slightly deeper than the one before it, but he still gave me nothing beyond that. I hated making him sit through this, yet allowing him to remain unaware felt more dangerous.

“I did tell Daniel,” I admitted. “I’m sorry. I know that was another person learning something you never chose to tell us, but I had to explain why I stopped the episode and why I finally understood that the podcast needed to end.”

Max glanced toward Daniel.

Daniel met his gaze without flinching, though he did not move from the counter.

“Your secret is safe with us,” I said. “We won’t tell anyone else in the house. We won’t discuss it with each other after this conversation, and I’m deleting the email along with every note or draft connected to it.”

I folded my hands in my lap to stop myself from fidgeting. “The only reason I’m telling you that I know is because shutting down the podcast may not stop whoever sent the message. They were trying to force the issue. If they don’t get what they wanted from me, they might find another way to expose you.”

For the first time, Max’s expression cracked. Fear flashed across his face before he looked away, quick and raw enough that I almost wished I had not seen it.

“I didn’t want you to be blindsided,” I said more softly. “Now you know someone is willing to do this, and you can decide what you need to do. You should be the one who gets to prepare, make choices, and figure out what happens next.”

Daniel finally pushed away from the counter and approached the table. He stopped beside me rather than looming over Max, resting one hand lightly against the back of my chair.

“For the record, man, this doesn’t change anything in my eyes,” he said. “If anything, it makes a few things make more sense.”

A faint, uneasy laugh escaped him, but his expression became serious again almost immediately.

“I honestly don’t care that you and Liam are together,” Daniel continued. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone else in this house would care either. But that isn’t our decision to make for them, and it isn’t our information to share. This stays between the three of us. Chloe and I won’t even discuss it with each other after we leave this kitchen.”

Max watched him closely, his guarded expression giving away little.

Daniel leaned one hip against the table. “I also realize you’ve probably felt alone for a long time. Keeping something this important from everyone means you haven’t had many people you could talk to when things got difficult.”

Max’s eyes shifted toward the window.

“Everyone needs somebody,” Daniel said. “So I’m here. Chloe is too, if you’re comfortable with that. You don’t have to talk to either of us, and I’m not expecting you to decide anything right now. I only want you to know the option exists.”

The silence stretched until it began to feel intrusive. Max had already been forced to absorb more than he should have needed to before breakfast, and I did not want our attempt to support him to become another form of pressure.

I pushed my chair back and stood. “Okay. We’ll leave you alone.”

Daniel straightened beside me.

“I’m sorry for everything,” I said. “I’m sorry someone is trying to do this to you, and I’m sorry I don’t know who sent the email.”

Max continued staring at the tabletop while Daniel and I started toward the doorway. I had nearly reached the hall when his voice stopped us.

“I think there’s a pretty high possibility it was Liam.”

I turned back.

Max picked up his phone but did not unlock it. “I’ve never told another soul, and as far as I know, he hasn’t either. So there are only two possibilities: it was him, or he told someone. Either way he’s at the bottom of it.”

Pain flickered through his expression, quickly buried beneath the guarded look he had worn throughout the conversation.

Then he looked at me.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “And for not exposing us.”

I nodded, unable to find an answer that did not feel inadequate.

Max glanced between Daniel and me before adding, “Like Billy said, we’re good.”