Chapter 2: Caught on Camera—Cracks in Trust

The request just hung there, heavy. I hesitated, not sure what to do. Tyler had never been this forward before. Part of me wanted to show off, to be daring for once. But another part of me shrank back, not sure I wanted to cross that line.

He looked more interested than I’d seen in a while, his grin wide and eyes sparkling. For a split second, I felt proud—like I could still surprise him. But the way he stared made me squirm, my confidence slipping.

A knot tightened in my stomach. I shifted my weight, tugging at the hem of my skirt, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of skin I was showing. The air felt thick, the room too small. I glanced at the door, half-expecting someone to barge in. My cheeks burned.

I could tell what he really wanted. My face flamed as I looked away and mumbled, "That... isn’t right... We..." My voice trailed off, barely audible. I couldn’t meet his eyes. The words tasted weird—guilty and maybe a little bit curious. I wanted to make him happy, but this didn’t feel right.

Seeing me falter, Tyler kept at it. He leaned closer, his voice coaxing: "Brianna, we’re long-distance. Shouldn’t we try something a little exciting? Spice things up?" His words felt rehearsed, practiced. The pressure built, his expectations pressing down on me.

He swung the camera around his room, pointing out all the reminders of me scattered everywhere. "See? These are all ways I show I miss you." His voice was softer now, almost pleading. I felt a wave of guilt, wondering if I was just being uptight.

He lingered on a picture of us at the county fair—our faces flushed, arms around each other. Seeing it made my stomach drop. I wanted to believe him, to trust he was being honest. But the doubt wouldn’t leave.

I started to second-guess myself. Was I just being too careful? Maybe this was normal for couples who were apart. I wanted to be fun, to prove I could be adventurous, too.

Without thinking, I lifted the hem a little higher. My fingers trembled, adrenaline rushing through me. I caught myself, surprised by how far I’d gone. I glanced at Tyler’s face, searching for approval.

His eyes got huge, and there was this hungry look that made me shiver. He leaned in, licking his lips, the intensity in his gaze almost too much. My heart hammered, caught between feeling exposed and strangely powerful.

"Just this once..." he whispered, voice low and urgent. I hesitated, torn. I wanted to please him, but I also wanted to protect myself. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

I bit my lip, finally whispering, "Okay... just this once." My cheeks were on fire, but I forced myself to look at him. The little smirk of triumph on his face made my stomach twist.

Tyler’s eyes lit up as he nodded, practically glowing with excitement. He looked like a little kid getting the exact toy he wanted. A pang of guilt hit me, but it was too late to back out now.

My heart pounded, hands shaking as I started to lift the hem of my skirt. I gritted my teeth, steeling myself, about to go through with it—

Suddenly, the door creaked open and I froze. My hand dropped the skirt, panic flooding my veins. I spun around, eyes wide. The air felt sharp, electric.

"Brianna, put it down." The words sliced through the room. My heart stuttered. I turned slowly, dread crawling up my spine.

A man in a suit leaned in the doorway, his gaze sharp and cutting. He looked like he’d just come from work—crisp suit, tie loosened, his eyes locked on me with a look that could slice through steel.

His eyes were gentle, but when he spoke, his voice was cold enough to make me shiver. That mix—kindness in his gaze, ice in his tone—left me paralyzed. I shrank under his stare, feeling impossibly small.

I turned, saw his face, and my hands went numb. My voice shook as I stammered, "Un... Uncle Mark."

My voice barely made it out. I felt about six years old, caught red-handed. My cheeks burned, humiliation rolling over me. Uncle Mark’s presence filled the room, all authority and gravity.

I’d been so focused on the call, I hadn’t even heard him come in. He’d just appeared, and the shock left me reeling. I glanced at the clock, realizing I had no clue how long he’d been standing there, watching.

He closed the door behind him, tossing his suit jacket over a chair. As he rolled up his sleeves, his gaze stayed locked on me, each step deliberate. The sound of the door clicking shut felt final, like a verdict.

"So, after a few years apart, Brianna’s gotten brave, huh? Now you don’t even listen to your uncle?" His words sounded teasing, but there was a warning under there. My stomach clenched. All those old memories of him scolding me as a kid came rushing back—but this was different. There was something else in his voice.

His tone was more mocking than scolding, but his eyes lingered on my hands, still clenched around the skirt. I looked down, realizing I was gripping the fabric for dear life. My hands shook. He didn’t look away, and I felt like I was under a microscope.

On the screen, Tyler’s face went bright red. He looked like he was about to explode, jaw clenched, eyes blazing. He leaned toward the camera, his voice rising.

"Who are you? Why are you calling my girlfriend like that?" Tyler’s words were sharp, jealousy and confusion all over his face. I flinched, stuck between the two of them. The tension was thick, like the air before a thunderstorm.

I opened my mouth to warn Tyler, but Uncle Mark, now right beside me, reached out and took my phone first. His movement was so smooth, so casual, I barely saw it coming. He plucked the phone from my hand, his grip firm but not rough. I tried to say something, but the words got stuck. Uncle Mark held the phone up, his face unreadable.

Uncle Mark looked even better than I remembered. Time had been good to him—his hair was shorter now, a little silver at the temples, jaw sharper, presence even more commanding. He just had this quiet confidence that made everyone else fade into the background.

He looked put-together, but comfortable. His suit was unbuttoned at the top, tie loosened, like he’d just come home but was still in charge. I couldn’t help admiring how he made power look effortless.

I looked up at him, taking in his sharp features—a strong jaw, that crisp white shirt. He still had a hint of youth in his face, but there was this mature charm that made him almost dazzling. I felt my heart skip a beat.

His eyes caught the light, flecks of gold and green glinting. There was a kindness there, something warm that made me feel safer than I wanted to admit. His smile was rare, but when it happened, it could light up the whole room. I realized—again—that Uncle Mark was the kind of man people remembered.

Compared to Uncle Mark, Tyler was in a whole different league. Tyler suddenly seemed like a little kid. The contrast was jarring, and I felt a little pang of regret for ever doubting what grown-up affection looked like.

Uncle Mark glanced at Tyler, silent. He didn’t need to say a word—his silence was enough. Tyler squirmed, his bravado draining away. Uncle Mark’s calm confidence was more intimidating than any threat.