She doesn’t laugh.
I slow my steps and look over at her.
The nerves are written all over her face. Her shoulders are tight. Her eyes keep darting toward the house sitting at the end of the gravel path.
She finally blurts it out. “Maybe I should go back.”
I stop walking.
She takes two more steps before realizing I’ve stopped.
“Axle …”
“You aren’t going back.”
She releases a shaky breath. “You need to talk to Cabe alone.”
“And I will.”
She blinks. “Then why are you making me come?”
“Because you’re my girl and you’re supposed to be with me.”
Her eyes search mine. “It’s okay for you to go alone this time.”
“No.” I step closer. “It’s not okay.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I don’t let her.
“We’re a united front now. And everyone needs to see it.”
I reach up and cup her face between my palms, and her expression softens slightly.
“Especially Cabe,” I add.
The words hang between us because that’s really what this is about—not Sunday supper, not the rest of the family. She’s nervous about how Cabe will react to seeing us together.
I know I’m right when her eyes promptly fill with uncertainty.
“I don’t think anyone wants me at that table anymore.”
My chest aches when I hear her say those words because she used to feel more comfortable sitting there than I did. I lean down and press a kiss to her head. Then another to her lips.
When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers. “That’s not true. No one’s upset with you.”
She gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe that for a second.
I smile. “Okay, maybe some people were upset.”
“Axle.”
“But they’re upset with the situation, not with you.”
She sighs.
I brush my thumb across her cheek. “You’re welcome at that table.”
Her eyes shine with remorse, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. That she blew apart a family. That she ruined things. That she’ll always be a problem between me and Cabe.
