Sisterly bonding

As evening approaches, Cherie heads back inside. Tyler returns from his foray into the world looking a bit winded, but ecstatic; while he managed to strike up a conversation with a barista and snag a phone number, the effort was draining. He still feels the limits of his own confidence, reinforcing his desire to perfect the software and lean on your supernatural edge.

The house is quiet, the air cool and still after the midday heat. Cherie finds Alexis in the living room, lounging on the sofa with a fashion magazine and a neglected glass of iced tea, and joins her.

You drift between them, acting as a conversational lubricant. You don't just nudge their thoughts; you soften the room’s acoustics, making the space feel small, private, and confession-ready.

"You're glowing, Cherie," Alexis says, tossing the magazine aside. "And don't tell me it's just the sun. There’s a... looseness to you today. I like it."

Cherie sits on the edge of the armchair, pulling her knees to her chest. "I was just thinking about things, Lex. About the 'perfection' everyone sees from the outside. You always said you were jealous of this family, but honestly? Most days I feel like a high-end appliance. Functional. Necessary. But nobody really looks at the dishwasher unless it stops working."

Alexis sits up, her expression softening into something rare: genuine empathy. "I was jealous of the stability, sure. But seeing you here... seeing how Chad treats his blueprints like they’re the Holy Grail while you’re standing right there? It’s infuriating. But this house... Mack... he sees you, doesn't he?"

Cherie looks toward the hallway, a faint, dreamy smile on her lips. "He does. It’s strange, Lex. He’s a ghost. Chad would laugh himself into a coma if I told him, but I feel more... present when Mack is in the room than when Chad is. It’s like he’s helping me find the woman I was before I became 'The Sentinel's Wife.' And it’s not just me. Look at the kids. Tyler’s actually standing up straight. Kenzie is possessed by her art. Chloe is... well, Chloe’s blooming."

"Exactly," Alexis leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hum. "And so what if he’s a bit... 'handsy'? A bit sexual? We’re biological creatures, Cherie. We need that friction to know we’re alive. Mack isn't here to haunt us; he’s here to wake us up. He wants you to be the heroine of that book you're writing. He wants you to realize that being 'married' shouldn't mean being 'dead.'"

She’s right. If Mack was a demon, I’d feel cold, right? But I feel warm. I feel noticed. I feel playful. If he wants to touch me... if he wants to tease and flirt... why should I say no to the only thing in this house that actually makes me feel like a woman? Alexis is right. The kids are happier. Maybe this is the way things should be.

Alexis reaches out and pats Cherie’s hand. "Isn't tomorrow the photoshoot... and the yoga? Let go of the 'Dutiful Wife' for just one day. Let the House have its way with you. I have a feeling Mack has a very big reward planned for his favorite pupil."

They are interrupted by a knock on the front door. Without waiting, the door swings open and Mark steps in. "Hello, Ladies."

"You're early," Cherie says. "Again. I was just about to start making dinner."