Chapter 47
forty-seven
WREN
My hands are shaking as I park outside Jay’s house.
It’s been three weeks since the finale aired, three weeks since Ryan and I went public, and three weeks since Jay has spoken to me for more than five minutes at a time.
Three weeks of polite text messages and awkward phone calls where he asks about work and I ask about Calla and we both pretend everything is normal.
But everything isn’t normal. Ever since the show ended, ever since Ryan and I moved in together, ever since I took the promotion to executive producer on a new reality dating show, Jay has been different with me.
Distant. Protective in that suffocating way that makes me feel like I’m sixteen again and asking permission to go to prom.
He texted yesterday asking me to come to dinner. Just me. Not Ryan. Which felt deliberate and pointed and exactly like the kind of power move Jay makes when he wants to have A Conversation.
So I texted Ryan on my way over here and told him to come anyway.
I’ve been dreading this for weeks, but I can’t avoid it anymore. Ryan and I are building a life together. Jay is my brother. These are the two most important men in my life, and if they can’t figure out how to coexist, then I’m going to lose my mind.
Plus, if I’m being completely honest, I’m tired of feeling like I have to choose between them.
Tired of Jay acting like I’m making some terrible mistake by falling in love with his best friend.
Tired of Ryan biting his tongue every time Jay makes one of his passive-aggressive comments about our relationship.
I sit in my car for another minute, trying to work up the courage to go inside.
Through the front window, I can see Jay moving around the kitchen.
For a second, I’m transported back to being eight years old and coming home from school to find him making grilled cheese sandwiches because Mom was working late again.
He’s always taken care of me. Always been the one to fix things when they went wrong. But maybe that’s part of the problem.
I can’t keep putting this off. Jay and I need to have this conversation. If I’m being honest, I need Ryan here for backup. Not because I can’t handle my brother, but because this is about all of us now. About the life Ryan and I are building together.
I take a deep breath and walk up to the front door. I still have my key, but I knock anyway. It feels like the polite thing to do when you’re about to have a fight with someone.
Jay opens the door wearing an apron that says “Kiss the Cook” that Calla got him as a joke.
He looks relaxed, which is never a good sign when it comes to my brother and difficult conversations.
When Jay looks relaxed before a serious talk, it usually means he’s already decided how the conversation is going to go.
“Hey, Wren.” He hugs me, and for a second, everything feels normal. Like we’re just brother and sister having dinner on a Thursday night.
“Smells good in here.”
“Calla’s recipe for chicken parmesan. She’s at book club, so it’s just us.”
Just us. Right. The way he says it confirms what I already suspected. This isn’t a casual dinner invitation. This is an intervention.
I follow him into the kitchen, where he’s got sauce simmering on the stove and what looks like enough food for an army laid out on the counter.
There’s Caesar salad, garlic bread, and a bottle of wine that I recognize as one of the expensive ones from the collection he and Calla started when they got married.
He cooks for four when he only wants to talk to one.
“This is a lot of food for two people,” I observe.
“I might have gotten carried away.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it, which means he’s lying.
I notice he’s set the table for three. Three place settings, three wine glasses, three sets of silverware. Even though he only invited me.
“Jay.” I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “Why didn’t you invite Ryan?”
He doesn’t even pretend to look surprised by the question. Just keeps stirring the sauce like it’s the most important thing in the world.
“Because I wanted to talk to my sister without her boyfriend hovering.”
“He’s protective. There’s a difference.”
Jay turns from the stove to look at me. I can see the concern written all over his face. The same expression he’s been giving me since I was five years old and decided I wanted to climb the big oak tree in our backyard.
“Wren, I’m worried about you.”
“I know you are. But you don’t need to be.”
“Don’t I?” He sets down his wooden spoon. “You’ve been with this guy for what, a few months? And now you’re living together, you’ve got a new job, you’re all over social media. That’s not like you.”
“Maybe the old me wasn’t the real me.”
“Or maybe you’re changing yourself for a guy who has a pretty bad track record when it comes to relationships.”
There it is. The thing we’ve been dancing around for weeks.
“Ryan’s track record is his business,” I say. “What matters is how he treats me.”
“And how does he treat you?”
“Like I matter.”
Jay sighs. “Wren, you’ve always mattered. You don’t need some hockey player to validate that.”
“You’re right. I don’t need him to validate it. But I spent a lot of years wondering if anyone would ever see me as more than Jay Rustin’s little sister. Ryan sees me.”
“I see you.”
“Do you? Because you invited me to dinner and specifically excluded the man I’m in love with. That doesn’t feel like seeing me. That feels like trying to control me.”
Before Jay can respond, the doorbell rings. We both freeze.
“Expecting someone?” I ask, even though I know exactly who it is.
“No.”
But I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket with Ryan’s text that he’s here. My stomach flips with nerves and relief in equal measure.
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.”
Jay studies him for a long moment. “You have a reputation, Ryan. A pretty well-documented history of not staying with women very long.”
“You’re right. I do. But Wren isn’t just another woman. She’s the woman. The one I want to build a life with.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because I’m here. Because I walked away from a seven-figure contract to choose her on national television. Because I’m sitting in your kitchen letting you interrogate me instead of telling you to go to hell, which is what I want to do.”
I reach over and take Ryan’s hand under the table, squeezing it gently. He squeezes back.
Jay looks between us and sighs. “I don’t like this.”
“You don’t have to like it,” I say. “But you do have to respect it.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then that’s your choice. But it doesn’t change mine.”
Jay is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with something. Finally, he looks at Ryan again.
“If you hurt her, there will be consequences.”
Ryan smirks. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”