“It’s not so much an intervention as…” Mom said, pausing as she seemed to arrange her next words carefully. “...seizing a rare opportunity to talk to you alone.”
“A rare opportunity to talk to me alone?” I echoed, growing more agitated by the second on how they were dragging this out—whateverthiswas.
“You and Andi are stuck like glue these days,” Belle elaborated. “Makes it hard to share concerns.”
“Concerns?” I went on the defense, and the tone of my voice didn’t hide it. “Concerns about what? I thought y’all liked Andi.”
“We do,” Mom swiftly added, sensing my frustration. “We adore her. But our concerns aren’t abouther, sweetheart. They’re about you.”
A swooping sensation went straight through my middle. “What about me?” I asked, slower but still defensive.
“Zane, you’re a man,” Belle said.
Silence fell between the four of us, lingering longer than it should have for a statement as obvious as that, and I started to wonder if I was supposed to agree.
“And men are preprogrammed to want to fix things,” Belle finally added.
“It’s written all over you that you want to fix this for her,” Mom said, a million times softer in her approach than my aunt’s.
“Because I do,” I said.
“We know that,” Mom said, “but we want to make sure that you’re wanting to fix things for the right reason.”
I couldn’t help myself and looked between my mom and her sister like they’d lost their minds. “And there’s a…wrongreason?”
“There is when it’s done out of fear,” Belle said.
I felt my eyebrows pull together. “Fear of what?”
Mom looked at me with that steady patience she was annoyingly good at. “Fear of losing her, son.”
Realization washed over me like a bucket of ice water. “Do not compare this shitor herwith Brianna.”
“We’re not comparing the two women,” Belle said, softer now but still in her own unapologetic way. “We’re talking aboutyou.”
“Oh, for shit’s sake,” Red said, scratching his beard before tugging at the back of his neck like he was trying to crack it. “I’m tapping in because y’all are taking way too long to get this out.” He looked at me with a sigh. “Zane, you’re a good guy who’s been kicked in the teeth before. And, sometimes, when a man gets hurt bad enough, he starts confusing effort with safety. Do more. Hold tighter. Control what you can so nobody slips through your damn fingers again.”
Belle murmured, “Harland,” but he kept going, softer now but still direct.
“You can’t fix Andi’s life to make sure she stays in yours.”
And ifthatwasn’t a motherfucking kick to the gut.
“You don’t do ‘hurt’ in small doses, sweetheart,” Mom said. “And when someone you love is struggling? It scares you. Makes you think you have to fix the whole world so you don’t lose them.”
“That’s all we’re trying to say here,” Belle said. “We just want you to check your reasons.” Her eyes fell on me then, watching me closely. “You want to fix it? Fine. Just fix it in a way that lets her fly, not in a way that cages her in.”
I stood there in stunned silence, wondering where the hell the three of them got off on telling me that I was…God, caging her in because I—what? Wanted to be the guy who fixed things for her instead of breaking them?
But then my mind started replaying all the little ways I’d tried to protect her.
Jumping in when guys got too handsy at the bar.
Going behind her and resaddling Dolly during riding lessons.
Kissing her to let her feel something safe after that scare in the barn.
Playing the hero and carting her out of the fairgrounds when the fireworks got to be a little too much.
