Page 172 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

Jay gives me a look that’s half exasperation, half resignation. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Wren.”

“What? He’s part of this now, Jay. He’s part of my life. You can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist.”

“I’m not pretending he doesn’t exist. I’m trying to have a conversation with my sister.”

“About my boyfriend. Who should probably be here for that conversation.”

Jay stares at me for a long moment. I can see him weighing his options. Finally, he sighs and walks to the front door. I hear him open it, hear Ryan’s polite greeting, hear Jay’s reluctant invitation to come in.

They walk into the kitchen together. The tension immediately ratchets up about ten degrees. It’s not that they hate each other, exactly. They’ve been friends for years. But Ryan being Jay’s friend is different from Ryan being Jay’s little sister’s boyfriend. Neither of them seems to know how to navigate that change.

Ryan nods at me, then turns to face my brother head-on. There’s something different about his posture, more controlled than usual. Like he’s ready for a fight but trying not to start one. His hands are clenched at his sides.

“Jay.”

“Ryan.”

“Thanks for having me.”

“I didn’t invite you.”

“No, but Wren did. And where she goes, I go.”

I can see Jay’s jaw clench at that. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

“What, that I love your sister?”

“That you think loving her gives you the right to make decisions for her.”

Ryan’s laugh is sharp, bitter. “You’re not the only one who wants to protect her, Jay. But at least I know the difference between protection and control.”

“Okay,” I interject before this turns into a full-blown argument. “Both of you, stop. I’m standing right here, and I can speak for myself.”

They both look at me. I can see them trying to dial back their aggression.

“Jay,” I continue. “You wanted to talk? Let’s talk. But Ryan stays.”

My brother looks between us, clearly not happy about the situation, but he nods. “Fine. Let’s eat first.”

Dinner is painful. Jay asks polite questions about Ryan’s off-season training schedule. Ryan inquires about Jay and Calla’s shooting schedule in the next few months. I push food around my plate and try not to scream at both of them to just say what they’re really thinking.

The chicken is perfectly cooked, and the wine is excellent, but I can barely taste any of it. I’m too focused on the undercurrent of tension running between the two men at this table, both of whom I love in completely different ways.

“This is ridiculous,” I finally say, setting down my fork. “We’re all adults here. Can we please just have the conversation we came here to have?”

Jay and Ryan look at each other, then back at me.

“Fine,” Jay says. He puts down his fork and looks directly at Ryan. “Why should I believe you won’t hurt her?”

Ryan doesn’t hesitate. “I can’t promise I won’t. People hurt each other sometimes, even when they love each other. What I can promise is that I’ll never do it on purpose. And if I do hurt her, I’ll do everything in my power to make it right.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“It’s the truth. It’s more honest than promising I’ll never hurt her, because that would be a lie.”