I watch the way she glances up at him. The softness there. The confusion. The pull.
And yeah. I could still be jealous.
But what I feel instead is heavier.
Protective.
“You think you’re supposed to choose something right now,” I say.
Her eyes snap to mine.
“I—”
“You do,” I cut in gently. “You think you owe someone clarity.”
She swallows.
I glance at Zane again. He doesn’t argue.
Good.
“You don’t,” I continue. “You don’t owe us a roadmap. You don’t owe us certainty. You’re allowed to be confused.”
Her voice drops. “What if I hurt someone?”
Zane answers before I can. “We’re not glass.”
She looks at him, startled.
I nod. “He’s right. We’re grown men. We can handle complicated.”
She lets out a slow breath, shoulders sagging just slightly.
“Why are you being so… calm?” she asks me.
I grin faintly. “You were expecting a duel at dawn?”
“A little,” she admits.
“Tempting,” I say. “But not productive.”
Then I sober.
“Look,” I say quietly. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re one wrong move away from screwing everything up. To feel needed and not be sure you deserve it.”
Her eyes soften.
“And I’m not saying this because I’m trying to be noble,” I add. “I’m saying it because I mean it.”
I lean forward, lowering my voice.
“Then let us take care of you while you figure it out.”
After a while, Aurora disappears upstairs with a tight smile and a muttered, “Emails,” which is code forI need five minutes to not have men analyzing my soul.
The door shuts.
Silence stretches.
