Page 65 of Rhodes

He exhales. "That was the worry. Everyone just wants to protect her."

Something in how he says it snags.

"You knew," I say.

Silence.

"Of course."

"If I'm being honest, that's pretty shitty. No wonder she lashes out. Y'all all treat her like she's made of glass."

"She had a full plate, Rhodes. I wasn't going to gut her over something she couldn't change, as my mom is dying. There just hasn't been a good time."

"That's the part I don't buy." I lean into the counter. "You didn't protect her. I watched her the night she found out. She was upset about possibly losing Oak Moss, sure. But what gutted her was that everybody who loves her knew, and purposefully kept her in the dark until the last possible moment. I didn't realize she was right."

"You weren't there," Coop says, sharper now. "The bad years, when she was barely holding herself together, and one wrong thing could tip her. Protecting her stopped being a choice and became instinct."

"I know what happened, Coop, and I know why you do it." I rub my thumb along the edge of the oven, cleaning off some leftover grime from dinner last night. "But she's not there anymore. At some point you have to stop making every decision based on the worst year of her life."

He doesn't answer for a long moment. I know I'm the last man alive who should be preaching.

"You've gotten close to her. I can hear it in your voice. But, respectfully, living with her for a month or so doesn't make you an expert on Tilly," Coop says finally.

The phrase "close to her" stops me for a second.

"I didn't say I'm an expert."

"The way you're talking makes it seem like you know better than we do."

"I'm saying I watched what it did to her when she found out a major thing was happening and no one in her family told her. She had to find out from an old lady down the street. That part doesn't take an expert."

"I hear you. Look, I need to go. I'll see y'all in Ravello. I fly in Saturday morning, so I'll be cutting it close to the ceremony."

"See you there."

I've been looking forward to this trip since Cain announced it at Christmas. Coop ending up being able to make it was supposed to be a bonus. Instead, I stand here staring at my dark phone with an argument still sitting hot in my chest.

I know why he does it. Hell, if Tallulah were my sister, maybe I'd be worse. But he isn't seeing it through her eyes like I am.

The Boot hasn't changed since freshman year. Same sticky tables, same three pitchers already sweating in front of us, same music turned up loud enough that Deuce has to shout to be heard from two feet away.

It's the first time I've been out in weeks. Somewhere along the line I stopped coming, traded the noise for a quiet kitchen and a girl bent over field notes.

"Rack it up," Sully yells at Nash, who's guarding the pool table like it owes him money.

Ford isn't watching the pool game. Ford's watching the door.

"You expecting somebody?" I ask him.

"No." He picks up his beer too fast. "Just looking."

The door swings open and Jo walks in. Ford sits up straight like somebody yanked a string in his back. His whole face goes stupid and bright.

"Oh, no," Deuce says, already grinning. "Oh, look at that."

"Shut up."

"You texted her." Nash points a pool cue at him. "You've been texting her, don't lie."