10. Matt
MATT
I cut through my steak while Dad drones on about the tire tracks Mira's friends left in the north pasture, how they crushed a section of new fence he'd just put up last month. His voice carries that resigned tone he gets when he's upset but too tired to really fight about it.
"Cost me four hundred in materials alone," he says, shaking his head. "Not to mention the time."
"I'll pay for it." Mira's voice is small. She hasn't touched her food, just pushes green beans around her plate. "I have some money saved, and I can?—"
"Already handled it," Dad cuts in, but his expression softens. "You apologized. That's enough. Just… pick better friends, kiddo."
The nickname makes her flinch. She nods, curls falling forward to hide her face.
Elena hasn't said a word since we sat down. She cuts her chicken into precise, tiny pieces, her movements controlled and deliberate. Too controlled. The silence radiating from her is worse than Dad's lecture, and I feel Mira shrinking beside me with every passing second.
I reach under the table, find her knee, squeeze. She startles but doesn't pull away.
"More potatoes, anyone?" Dad offers the bowl. Nobody takes it. He sets it down with a heavy sigh. "Well. At least the damage is fixable. Could've been worse."
"Could've been better if I'd never sent them a message." Mira's voice cracks. "I'm really sorry, Richard. I'll help you fix the fence. I know how now."
"I know you do." Dad gives her a genuine smile. "You've learned a lot these past weeks. I'm proud of you."
Elena's fork clinks against her plate. The sound cuts through the room like a gunshot.
We all freeze.
She sets down her utensils, folds her hands in her lap, and finally looks up. Her gaze lands on Mira first, then swings to me. Those sharp brown eyes miss nothing—not the way Mira sits angled toward me, not my hand disappearing under the table, not the tension coiled in both our shoulders.
"So," Elena says. Her voice is calm. Too calm. "Are we going to talk about it, or are we going to keep pretending?"
Mira goes rigid beside me.
Dad glances between us, confused. "Talk about what?"
"Richard." Elena doesn't look at him. "You're a smart man. Look at them."
He does. I watch understanding dawn across his weathered face—the way we're sitting too close, how Mira's barely breathing, the protective angle of my body toward hers.
I pull my hand back from Mira's knee and straighten in my chair. No point hiding anymore.
"We're together," I say. My voice comes out steady, flat. "Have been for weeks now."
Dad's fork drops. It bounces off his plate with a sharp clatter.
Elena doesn't move, but her knuckles go white where her hands grip each other. "Together."
"Yes."
"With your stepsister." Her words slice through the air. "A girl who's barely an adult. A girl I sent here to learn responsibility, not to?—"
"I'm not a girl." Mira's voice shakes but she lifts her chin. "I'm twenty-two."
"And he's thirty-four!" Elena's composure finally cracks. She stands, chair scraping back. "What were you thinking, Matthew? You were supposed to help her grow up, not—not seduce her!"
Heat flares in my chest. "I didn't seduce anyone. She made her own choices. And my intentions for her are pure."
"Choices?" Elena's laugh is bitter. "She's spent her entire life making terrible choices! That's why she's here in the first place!"
"Elena." Dad's voice is quiet but firm. "Sit down."
She ignores him, rounding on Mira instead. "Is this what you've been doing? Sleeping with your stepbrother instead of facing your mistakes? God, Mira, I thought maybe—for once?—"
"Mom." Mira stands too. Her hands tremble at her sides. "Please. Let me talk."
Elena crosses her arms, jaw tight. "I'm listening."
Mira takes a deep breath that seems to come from somewhere deep in her chest. Her caramel eyes shine with unshed tears, but she blinks them back with a determination I've come to recognize over these months.
The girl who would have dissolved into dramatic sobs weeks ago now stands straighter, finding her strength.
"I'm sorry, Mom. For everything." Her voice wavers but holds steady.
"For dropping out of vet school without even trying to push through the hard parts.
For lying to you about my grades for months before that.
For wasting all that tuition money you and Richard worked so hard to save.
" She pauses, her hands clenched at her sides.
"For being such a spoiled, entitled brat who never took anything seriously in her entire life. "
She swallows hard, her throat working visibly. I can see the effort it takes her to hold Elena's gaze, to not look away from the disappointment she's carried for so long.
"You were right about me. About everything.
" The admission seems to cost her, but she pushes through.
"I was selfish and irresponsible and completely lost. I needed this—needed to be here, needed to learn how to work with my hands and stop running away every time something got difficult or uncomfortable. "
Elena's expression wavers.
"Matt helped me see that." Mira's voice steadies, growing stronger with each word.
"He didn't let me quit or manipulate my way out of anything like I always had before.
He made me face who I really was—and I hated it at first. God, I hated every second of it.
" Her fingers twist together, knuckles white with the memory.
"I hated him for it, for not letting me charm or cry or tantrum my way out of the hard work like I'd done my whole life. "
She glances at me, and something warm and fierce blazes in those caramel eyes—something that makes my chest tight with pride and possession.
"But he saw something in me I couldn't see in myself.
Something I didn't even believe existed.
" Her voice drops, becoming more intimate despite the audience.
"He believed I could be better. Not just talked about it or hoped for it, but actually believed it enough to push me when I wanted to give up, to hold me accountable when I tried to slide back into old patterns. "
She turns back to Elena, her shoulders squaring with newfound confidence. "He made me earn every bit of respect and trust, made me prove I was worth something more than just pretty words and empty promises. And for the first time in my life, I actually felt like I deserved what I was fighting for."
"Mira—" Elena starts.
"I get it now. Why you sent me here." Mira steps forward. "You wanted me to grow up. To find something real. To stop wasting my life." Her voice drops. "I did. Matt gave me that. He helped me find the reason to go back to vet school. He's the reason I care about anything at all."
Elena's face crumples slightly. She uncrosses her arms.
"I need him, Mom." Mira's words tumble out in a rush now, her voice gaining strength and conviction with each syllable.
"He's not just my support—he's my foundation.
The solid ground I never knew I was missing.
He makes me want to be better every single day, not because he demands it or threatens me, but because he sees potential in me that I'm still discovering.
" Her hands gesture emphatically, curls bouncing with the fervor of her declaration.
"He challenges me to reach for things I never thought I deserved, to push past every excuse I used to make for myself. "
She takes a shaky breath, her caramel eyes bright with unshed tears but blazing with determination.
"And I—" She falters for just a heartbeat, glancing at me with something raw and vulnerable in her expression before turning back to face her mother head-on.
"I love him, Mom. Completely. Desperately.
In a way that scares me sometimes because I never knew I was capable of feeling this much for another person.
" Her voice drops to barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.
"I love you too, and I know this isn't what you pictured for me, isn't the safe, conventional path you wanted me to take.
But I can't give him up. I won't. Not for anyone or anything. "
Silence crashes over the room.
Dad clears his throat. "Jesus Christ."
Elena stares at her daughter like she's seeing a stranger. Her mouth opens, closes. Finally she sinks back into her chair, one hand pressed to her forehead.
"How long?" she asks quietly.
"Six weeks," I answer. "Give or take."
"Six weeks." Elena looks at me. The anger is still there, but something else flickers beneath it. Confusion. Maybe hurt. "You've been lying to us for six weeks."
"Don't blame him." Mira cuts in before I can respond. "I'm the one who didn't want to tell you. I asked him to keep it quiet."
Elena's gaze sharpens on her daughter. "Why?"
"Because I knew you'd react exactly like this." Mira's voice wavers but holds firm. "You'd see it as another one of my mistakes. Another impulsive, stupid decision from your screw-up daughter."
"Mira—"
"But it's not." She lifts her chin. "This is the most real thing I've ever done. The only choice I've made that actually matters."
I lean forward, elbows on the table. "My intentions are pure, Elena. I love her."
The words hang in the air between us. Dad shifts in his seat, his chair creaking under his weight.
"Love." Elena's voice is flat. "You've known each other six weeks."
"I've known her longer than that. Just never had the chance to see who she really was." I hold her stare, refusing to back down. "She's not some fling. She's mine. And I'm keeping her."
Dad finally speaks, his voice heavy with something between concern and disbelief. "Matt. Son." He rubs the back of his neck, a sure sign he's uncomfortable. "She's too young. Way too young for you."
"I don't care."
"You should." He leans back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Twelve years is a hell of a gap. You're in completely different stages of life."
"Not anymore." I glance at Mira, who's chewing her lower lip hard enough to leave marks. "She's grown up more in these past weeks than most people do in years. You've seen it yourself."
"That doesn't change the fact that she's twenty-two and you're?—"
"I know how old I am." My jaw tightens. "And I know what I feel. I love her. That's not changing, no matter what anyone thinks about it."
Silence settles again, thick and oppressive. Elena stares at her plate, fingers drumming against the table edge in that rhythmic pattern she always falls into when she's trying to process something difficult.
Finally, she looks up at Mira. Really looks at her.
"You're different," she says softly. "I noticed it lately, but I thought maybe it was just the work, the routine. But it's more than that, isn't it?"
Mira nods, curls bouncing. "Everything's different now. I'm different."
Elena's expression shifts, the hard lines around her mouth softening just slightly.
"You look... settled. Like you finally found something that fits.
" She pauses, studying her daughter with eyes that suddenly seem less critical and more searching.
"I've never seen you like this before. Not even when you were excited about starting vet school the first time. "
"That's because I didn't have a reason then." Mira's voice is quiet. "Now I do."
Elena draws in a long breath, then releases it slowly.
Her shoulders drop, some of the tension leaving her rigid posture.
"If this is what's made you grow up, if he's the reason you're finally taking responsibility and finding direction...
" She trails off, shaking her head. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but... okay."
"Okay?" Mira's eyes go wide.
"I don't love it. I think you're both insane." Elena's mouth quirks in something that's almost a smile. "But I can see what he's done for you. How you've changed. So... okay. I accept it."
Dad grunts. "Well, if you're on board, Elena, then I guess I am too. Just..." He points at me. "Treat her right, son. Or you'll answer to me."
"Always," I promise.
Mira's face lights up, tears finally spilling over. She half-rises from her chair like she's going to hug her mother, but Elena holds up a hand.
"Don't make me regret this."
"I won't. I promise."
The words about the baby press against my tongue, demanding to be said. But Elena's acceptance is fragile, new. One revelation at a time.
The pregnancy can wait.