“It’s also not our business,” she snapped, eyes locked on mine.
Eunice, calm as ever, leaned in. “Is everything all right with Tally?”
Jordan appeared at her side, all polish and charm. “Everything’s fine, Mrs. Wilder. Doyle’s worried she’s getting dehydrated. He thought she should rest a minute.” He turned to me. “Charlie, can I talk to you for a second?”
I deadpanned. “Can I talk toyoufor a second?”
He smirked. “Fair enough.”
He led me off the dance floor, away from Doyle and Tally. Outside, the air was cooler, and my nerves start to fray. But still, I met his eyes across the cocktail table.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
Jordan sighed. “He didn’t know Eunice told her she could let loose. He thought she was slacking off.”
“She wasdancingwith Eunice. And even if she wasn’t, whofucking cares?” I started pacing the edge of the pavilion, raking my hands through my hair, gel sticking to my fingers in tacky strands. I probably looked half-feral.
“Charlie,” Jordan said calmly. “Whatever’s going on between Doyle and Tally is theirs to work out. He asked us not to interfere—and you should respect that.”
“Oh, sonowwe’re just supposed to stand around while another woman in this group gets talked down to? And what? Let it go? Smile and nod and call it Southern hospitality?”
Jordan’s eyes dimmed. His shoulders tightened. “Isn’t that what you asked us to do with your sister?”
He had me there.
I’d asked my friends to back off Dane. Not to interfere. Not to make waves. And they had—reluctantly.
But this felt different. This wasfamily. Her own brother had dragged her off the dance floor. I’d never seen Doyle act that way before.
Was he changing? Or was I forgetting whoIwas?
“Jordan,” I said, quieter now, “Tell Doyle she’s trying. She did a great job tonight. Eunice is thrilled. Let her have this win. Give her a damn chance.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said, eyes sincere. “But you don’t know how many years Doyle spent cleaning up after her—bad choices, wild ideas, boyfriends who disappeared with her rent money. We used to get postcards from Australia and eviction notices from apartments we didn’t even know we’d cosigned on. He’s scared, Charlie. He’s scared she’s gonna tank this and take us all down with her.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe. But we’ll never know unless we give her the chance to stand or fall. We don’t get to decide for her. We don’t get to protect her from becoming who she wants to be... just because we’re afraid she might.”
Dane sauntered onto the patio, cigar between his lips. “What’s up, boys?” He grinned, smoke curling behind him. “Charlie, your new girlfriend said to tell you goodnight. She left.”
I nodded tightly and pushed past him without a word.
“Fix your hair, Pruitt,” he called after me. “You look like you just got out of a damned straitjacket!”
That night, lying in bed, I kept replaying the look on Tally’s face. The pure humiliation as Doyle dragged her off the dance floor like a child who didn’t know better.
I tried, with everything in me, to see it through his eyes—a brother who’d watched his sister come apart more than once. Who’d spent years piecing her back together. Who believed he was the only one who could keep her safe from herself.
And then it hit me—what haunted me wasn’t what Doyle did. It was what I hadn’t done.
I never stepped in Magnolia’s way. Never stopped her from making choices I knew might break her. I stood back, let her do it, and swept up the pieces afterward.
And maybe that made me a better brother.
Or maybe it made me worse.
Chapter Eleven
TALLY
