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Poe lets out a frustrated breath and kisses my shoulder.

“If you go to meet him, I want to be there.”

I keep stirring, thinking about what I want to do.

He nips my neck, startling me.

“Say yes, siren,” he whispers teasingly in my ear. “Or I’ll bite again.”

“Pipe down, yappy dog. I’m thinking.” I try to sound stern, but I can’t help chuckling.

“Everybody witness this,” he turns to all the plushies. “She’s verbally abusing me.”

I smack his thigh with a scoff.

“Now it’s physical, too. Self-defense, everybody. Say it with me.”

He continues distracting me with his taunting until I chase him off by whipping his butt with a towel. Once he’s gone, I start thinking again.

Every Broussard, including Joseph, hasn’t contacted me for a long time. Months. I didn’t expect Asher to try to reach out personally. After Maman’s lecture, I figured he’d already made up his mind to ban me, too.

Why find me now? To make sure I tore up his pictures?

Do I want to risk the shaky peace I’ve achieved to meet people who probably despise me?

I don’t think I’m ready for that. There isn’t any hope inside to convince me it will be okay to go. I’m already wondering if he’ll tear me apart in front of them to complete my shame. Would he listen if I defended myself?

“I’m not going,” I mutter in a weak voice.

I blink as the words register.

I really don’t want to go. I’m tired of putting on a brave face only to have people rip me to shreds. My own family, at that. I think I should have a little more spine before I meet up with anyone.

Once I find my backbone, I’ll come back swinging if any of them find me again. Until that day, I’m leaving Asher on read. Just like he would do to me.

“Have you decided?” Poe raises a brow as I turn with the pot in my hand.

“I’m not going.” This time, I sound alright. Not mean or determined. Not even sad. Just at peace with the thought.

He seems surprised at my decision.

“Asher’s your favorite,” he prods a little.

“My peace of mind is worth more than whatever he plans to talk about. Besides, I doubt it will happen anyway.”

My casual reaction makes him frown.

“Are you giving up, siren?” He asks quietly. He fidgets in place, refusing to sit down at the table while I serve up food.

“No,” I scoff and roll my eyes. “I’m choosing my comfort instead of his. If it comes off as mean, too bad.”

Poe’s shoulders drop, his tension leaving him, and a smile slowly spreads.

“I’m glad you’re thinking that way. On that note, marry me.”

I almost drop the plate I’m setting down in surprise. Talk about a change in subject.

“Don’t you tease me, yappy dog.” I gape at him in disbelief.