She’s everything.
And she’s not mine.
“Your family isn’t innocent,” Uncle Rob mutters.
“But Dane is,” Amanda replies softly. “And so am I.”
I sink to the couch as she lets herself back into the house, overwhelmed with gratitude, appreciation, lo—appreciation.
We’re stopping at appreciation.
“Dammit,” Uncle Rob says outside.
Amanda looks at me.I’m sorry,she mouths.
Her eyes get shiny.
Her chin wobbles.
Hell if that’ll stand.
I’m on my feet pulling her into a hug in an instant. “You’re fucking amazing,” I murmur into her hair. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t—” she starts, but I shush her.
My heart is overflowing with more affection for this woman than I should let myself feel, but this pain?
The pain coming when it’s over?
She’ll have been worth it.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have sent you out there alone.”
“Oh my god,please. I can handle this for me. I don’t want to make things worse foryou.”
“This is on the way to better.”
“Are you sure?”
Esme’s voice drifts in through the window. “That didn’t look like an apology.”
Uncle Rob grunts something back.
“Amanda’s right,” Esme says. “She didn’t do anything wrong. And neither has Dane. You’re being a dick for the sake of being a dick, and I’m over it too. Good news for me, though, is that your dumb feud will die off with your generation. You can chew on that while you’re rolling over in your grave.”
Amanda stifles a noise that has my heart freezing in my chest.
I pull back and look down at her, prepared to wipe tears and reassure her that she’s not the problem, when I realize she’s holding back a snort of laughter.
“I should use that line on my grandma,” she whispers.
And now I’m the one trying not to laugh as I pull her back in for another tight hug. “You’re braver than I am.”
“Eh. Not like I won’t be breaking her heart anyway when I tell her I don’t want to move home to take over the Gingerbread House.”
If I squeeze her any tighter, she won’t be able to breathe.
But there’s a gravity in her voice that makes me want to carry this load for her.
