Page 85 of The Prime-Time Experiment

Because her attention had already shifted.

Dee leaned forward slightly, one elbow resting near her glass, her posture open in a way that signalled engagement rather than performance. Her expressions came quickly, unfiltered. Amusement, interest, the occasional disbelief.

Tyler matched her without effort. Riley watched it carefully.

There was something distinctly different about observing it from within the interaction rather than outside of it. She wasn’t tracking for outcome. She wasn’t preparing to intervene or recalibrate.

She was just present at the table, her awareness moving between them as the conversation carried on.

To her left, Ebony settled more fully into her seat, her earlier scanning replaced with something quieter, more anchored. She still tracked the room in brief intervals, but her focus returned consistently to the table, to the people within it.

It created a contained space.

Not isolated from the rest of the event, but separate enough to feel… manageable.

Riley’s shoulders lowered incrementally, the adjustment subtle but honest.

For a moment, her gaze drifted, far enough to take in the rest of the room again. The movement, the sound, the constant low hum of interaction that initially registered as density.

It hadn’t changed.

But her relationship to it had.

Her attention returned to the table.

To Dee, laughing now at something Tyler said. To Ebony, who leaned slightly closer, drawn in by the shift in tone. To Declan beside her, quiet, steady, not interrupting, not redirecting.

Riley registered it then, not as a conclusion or as something to define.

Just as an observation.

If Leanne and Charlie were able to attend, if the table had extended just slightly further, if the people she associated with different parts of her life occupied the same space? It would have felt… complete.

And it was nice to feel like that.

Riley’s attention lingered there for a moment longer, resting in that thought without pulling it apart. The noise of the room softened at the edges again, not because it changed fundamentally, but because her focus narrowed.

Beside her, Declan shifted slightly, not closer or enough to intrude, just enough that she registered him again at the edge of her awareness.

“Careful,” he murmured under his breath, low enough that it didn’t carry beyond her. “If you keep looking that content, I’m going to start thinking you actually like this.”

Riley turned her head toward him.

“I have already established that the experience is… positive,” she said.

His mouth lifted slightly, something warm and amused in the expression. “Yeah, you’ve established a lot of things,” he replied. “Doesn’t mean I’m not still going to take it personally.”

Riley considered that.

“… You may,” she said after a beat.

The corner of his smile deepened. There was a brief pause, not empty, not strained. Just held.

Riley became aware, distantly, of the way his arm rested along the back of her chair, close enough that the space between them felt reduced. Intentional. Her attention tracked it for a moment, then returned to his face.

“You are maintaining consistent proximity,” she observed quietly.

Declan huffed a soft breath, something like a laugh under it. “Yeah. I am.”