Guilt eats me. I open my mouth, then close it again. There's no clean answer. There's only truth, and it's messy.
She blinks hard.
I soften my tone. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
She lowers her voice. "Intent doesn't erase impact."
"That's a fair statement."
Silence forms.
"Come sit down," I offer, push off the door, and walk into the kitchen, needing movement so I don't say something stupid. I grab a water bottle from the fridge, twist it open, and take a long drink. I hand one to her and grab a barstool, admitting, "I thought you'd take Finn's side."
"Oh, I'm on his side. I'm livid you didn't bother to tell me anything about her or your nuptials," she declares.
My grip tightens on the plastic until it crinkles. "It wasn't a wedding you send out invites for."
She taps her water bottle. "That's not the point. The point is you made a choice that changes this family, and you left me out of it, then didn't even fill me in."
I set the bottle down, searching for the truth so I don't have to lie to her. "It all happened really fast."
"And you didn't think to slow down and invite your family to your wedding?"
I grunt. "I married an Abruzzo."
"So I've heard."
"You've seen how Finn's reacting," I offer.
She takes a sip of water, then replies, "Not an excuse, Brax." Her hurt flares again. She looks away.
My pulse tics. I put my hand on hers. "I'm sorry, Brenna. The last person I'd ever want to hurt is you."
She turns toward me. "What's she like?"
Warmth fills my chest. My lips twitch. I don't have to think. It all rolls out. "She's...she's beautiful. And smart. Way too smart for me. She's also infuriating, stubborn, complicated, and brave."
Her face softens. A tiny smile forms, but she asks, "Is she dangerous?"
I hold her gaze. "She can hold her own. But she would never try to hurt the people I love or me."
Brenna's eyes flicker with something I can't put my finger on. She blurts out, "Then you're to bring her to dinner tonight."
The sentence hits so fast my brain stalls. "What?"
She sits back in her chair. "I want to meet your wife, Brax."
"Brenna, that's not—" I search for a word that won't make this worse. "Expected."
"Well, I didn't exactly expect it when Finn brought you home fifteen years ago."
I stare at her, caught between gratitude and the old, brutal instinct to keep everyone I love away from incoming fire.
She keeps going, voice lower now, gentler. "You're family. If she's family too, then I need to know her. Not through rumors. Not through Finn's silence or anger. Through my own eyes."
Finn's silence.
I scrub my face in frustration. "What about Finn? He still won't talk to me. Every morning, I see him at the gym, and he ignores me. Pretty sure I'm not welcome in your house."
