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Zane’s jaw tics slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that answer, or maybe because it’s the truth.
“I’ve seen what it looks like when someone tries to control her. Dim her down to keep her manageable. I’m not interested in being that man. I want Harper with all her sharp edges. Her ambition. That’s who I fell in love with, and I want her light to keep shining.”
For a beat, he just watches me, and then, finally, he speaks. “She almost didn’t come back from what Micah did.”
“I know. I watched her rebuild herself with shaking hands. I’ve seen the cost of survival written all over her.”
“And you think you’re built to handle that?” he questions, sipping his drink.
“I don’t think,” I confirm, giving him a smirk. “IknowI am. I’ve walked through fire for her and with her. I’ve stood between her and the worst kind of darkness. Not because she needed me to, but because I couldn’t live with myself if something happened.”
He leans back, folding his arms across his chest, still unreadable. “Harper was my priority when we were kids. If you hurt her, if you ever make her question her worth?—”
“You won’t have to come looking for me,” I interrupt. “I hope you’d fuck me up if I did any of those things. Know that I’ll spend every day making sure she knows what it feels like to be safe, wanted, and loved exactly as she is.”
Something shifts in his eyes, and it’s recognition. It’s the look of a man who’s tested a theory and gotten a result he can live with.
Then his face cracks into a smile. “I think those are the most words I’ve heard you speak—ever.”
I don’t shift in my seat or glance away. I hold the moment because it deserves to be held—because when a man hands you his sister’s heart, you honor it.
Zane leans back now, less guarded than before, but still every bit the older brother. Still the man who stepped into roles no one asked him to fill when they were kids and carried Harper through storms she never even saw after their mother passed away. I respect what he’s done. I don’t resent it. If anything, I get it more than he knows.
“I never expected to fall for her,” I admit. “She’s fire. Untouchable, impossible not to be drawn to, but wild. But somewhere along the way, she stopped being a mission and became my purpose. She was the reason I started thinking about the future again. I didn’t realize how dark everything had gotten until she walked in and made the room feel like it had windows.”
I pause, searching for the words that don’t come easy, not because they’re not true, but because they’re real. “She makes me a better man. When I’m with her, I want to be who she sees. I don’t know if you can understand that.”
“I can,” Zane exhales, like he’s sorting through his own memories with his wife, Autumn.
The silence hangs between us.
“I don’t take marriage lightly,” I continue. “And I’m not here like it’s a checkbox on a list. I’m here because she deserves a love that shows up for her in every room, in every fight, in every quiet moment after the storm. I want to be that for her. I already am.”
His expression doesn’t change, but something in his shoulders finally eases.
“I want to marry Harper,” I say. “And I’d like your blessing, not because I need it, but because she deserves that kind of respect from the man who will be with her until the end of time.”
Zane doesn’t speak immediately. He just studies me for another long second, the kind where judgment and understanding live side by side. Then, finally, he sets his glass down and folds his hands on the table.
“All right,” he says. “You’ve said what you came here to say. Now let me say mine.”
The table between us feels smaller now, like the weight of everything I said filled the space. Zane leans forward, and I meet his gaze without hesitation.
“You’re not wrong about her,” he says finally. “Harper’s always been the one who walked into a room and shone in her own special way. Even when she was a kid, she had this way of refusing to bend for anyone. She’s strong-willed, competitive, and stubborn. A true Alexander.”
His eyes don’t leave mine. He’s deliberate.
“I’ve spent most of my life trying to protect her from people who didn’t know what to do with that kind of fire. Who either tried to tame it or use it for their own warmth. Micah was both. And it damn near killed her.”
A pulse tics at the base of his jaw, but he doesn’t look away. “So, understand this, Brody. When I say I accept this relationship, I’m not handing over a prize for you to flaunt. I’m acknowledging thatyou—out of everyone—see her for exactly who she is and you still want to build a life beside her and that you’re not asking her to dim her light. That you’re not trying to carry her out of the ashes and mold her how you please. I see that you’re just standing there beside her while she rises, and you support that. It’s exactly what she needs.” He pauses, letting the moment settle before adding, “I have no issues with you or this relationship.”
Relief hits me, and I exhale, not realizing I was even holding my breath. “Thank you.”
Zane lifts his drink, but his tone sharpens, the edge returning. “But if you ever lie to her, clip her wings, or give her even a second of doubt about her worth, you’ll find out just how much I still believe in revenge.”
I chuckle. “Exactly what I expected you to say.”
His mouth twitches like he might smile, but it doesn’t make it all the way to his eyes. “Then we understand each other.”