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“Do you want me there?” he asks.

“Not with Bliss or Aura. I need to face them without using you as proof that I’ve changed.”

“And Cade?”

“I want you there.”

His gaze returns to mine.

“His anger belongs to what I did to you,” I explain. “I won’t ask him to discuss your pain while keeping you outside the room. I need you beside me, but I need to carry the conversation.”

“You think I’ll take over.”

“I think protecting me is written into your bones, and sometimes you reach for the fight before asking whether I need you to throw the punch.”

“I’m not apologizing for that.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“What are you asking?”

“That you stand beside me without standing in front of me.”

Ryan studies my face.

“You’ll tell me if you need more?”

“I promise communication. I won’t promise an outcome I can’t control.”

His expression shifts at the distinction.

“Bliss, Aura, and Cade,” he says.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Before Christmas.”

“That gives you three weeks.”

“I know.”

“You planned this.”

“I thought about it. Planning implies considerably more organization.”

His mouth curves slightly. “You’ll tell me how the first two go?”

“I will.”

“You won’t disappear into guilt if they don’t forgive you?”

“I’ll probably cry, swear, and eat an irresponsible amount of pizza. I won’t use their response to decide whether I deserve you.”

“That is deeply inconvenient.”

“Why?”