Page 209 of Tangled with the Tight End

“I feel it. But the trainers checked me out. I got treatment. I’m strong.”

“You sure are.” She pauses. Then she says, “Declan, I know your dad can be bold when he presents ideas.”

I laugh. “Bold. Yeah.”

“He and I have talked a lot about this situation. Your image is only part of our concern.”

“I’m listening.”

“Winona is a small-town girl. She isn’t used to this life.”

“You’re not wrong.”

I don’t mention how well she fits with the team. I definitely don’t mention how she feels like this piece of life I’ve been missing and finally found.

“The women I have arranged to meet you aren’t chosen at random,” Mom says. It’s the first time she so openly acknowledged her matchmaking mission. “I always ask myself, How would she do living alongside my son? It’s up to you to find someone compatible. All I’m doing is screening for their capacity to endure the heat.”

“You’re screening candidates.” I don’t even phrase it as a question.

“A supermodel or actress already lives in the spotlight. They’re not injured when the world smears their name. They’re used to the haters and media sensationalism and to the demands of living in the public eye.”

I never saw her efforts as anything other than meddling. I tease her. “Here I thought Dad was the strategic one.”

“Behind every successful man …” she tapers off.

“I’m not diminishing you as a person, Mom. I just thought you liked taking the back seat.”

“I prefer shotgun.”

I’m silent, considering the women Mom has sent to meet me over the years.

Not one of them appeals to me.

They’re not Winona.

I only want her.

I’d rather die single than date another woman.

“I don’t care what Winona makes or what she does for a living,” Mom says. “All I’m saying is that she may not be cut out for this life. I’m imagining how all this negative press must be affecting her. Being torn apart on the world’s stage is really a lot to ask of her.”

“I know.”

“That’s all.”

To her credit, my mom doesn’t say anything else.

She’s right. It’s not right to ask this of Winona.

I love her.

Love means you do what’s best for a person even if it costs you everything.

And letting her go will cost me everything.

But it will spare her the pain she’s going through for me right now.

“Are you still there?” Mom’s question cuts through my thoughts.