“We got snowed in! It was supposed to be a one-day trip. Not last a whole week. What, you think I control the weather now?”
I’m tempted to throw my food in his face, no matter how childish it would be.
Why can’t he see how wonderful this is?
“Why aren’t you happy for me?” I whisper. “This is a good thing.”
My throat closes up, and when tears fill my eyes, Avery groans and runs a hand through his hair.”
“Of course I’m happy for you,” he murmurs.
“No, you’re not. You look like someonedied.”
There’s a heavy, dreadful moment of silence.
“It was irresponsible, Maeve.” His tone is laced with disappointment.
I blink.
“What?” my voice is garbled, the sounds fighting to come out.
I will not cry.
My brother, my champion, the person that has always wanted the best for me, is suddenly lecturing me like I’ve done something wrong.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand. “What was irresponsible?”
The salmon bowl is getting closer and closer to being tossed in his face.
“I signed you up for the music class to help you,” he says, sighing. “And instead?—”
“He is giving me lessons still?—”
“And Logan is forty years old?—”
“So what, he’s a little antisocial?—”
“I have no problem with Ivan?—”
“Good, you shouldn’t!”
“But you’re moving too fast. Ivan mentioned something about you all staying at Logan’s packhouse.”
Ivan and his big mouth.
“Yeah, which is normal. You know, because I have apack.”
But Avery shakes his head. “You’re moving too fast, Maeve.”
“No, I’m not.” I place the bowl down next to me and curl my hands into fists. My nails dig into my palms, and I will myself to not burst into tears. “Don’t do that. Don’t question my choices. I’m an adult.”
If my brother thinks that I’m making the wrong decision, it makes this infinitely harder.
He means the world to me.
“You’re twenty-four years old?—”
“Yes, and I’m not a kid anymore!” I snap, sounding like a petulant child, proving Avery’s point.
