“She dump your sorry ass?”

“No.” But I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. I’d pushed after promising her that we could move on her schedule. Thinking I knew what was best for her when she’d been dealing with decades of terror and looking over her shoulder.

Carson made an out-with-it gesture. “Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to get you drunk first?”

I wouldn’t put it past him. On more than one evening, Carson and I had shared a bottle of whiskey and more than a few of our most closely guarded secrets. “I pushed her to come with me, and she wasn’t ready. It was a crappy move, especially when I’d promised her that we could go at her pace.”

Carson let out a low whistle. “Definitely a dick move. But she’ll forgive you if she hasn’t already.”

It was more than that, though. “I’m worried she thinks I’m not happy with the way things are. But I am. Even amidst the hell of the past few months, it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. I just want to make sure she’s not living some half-life because she’s scared.”

“But that’s not your choice to make. It’s her life, Brody. Not yours. You have this protective streak that can mow down anything in its path. But you have to let Shay make her own way. All you can do is stand beside her and support her.”

Everything Carson said was true, but at the same time, it went against every instinct I had. But in trying to help, I’d ended up controlling the situation. “Hell,” I muttered. “When did you get so wise?”

Carson smirked. “Always have been. It’s about time you started listening to me.”

“I need to call Shay. Then what do you say you and I skip out and find a beer and some real food?” I’d always despised the hors d’oeuvres they served at these things. You needed to eat thirty of them to make a meal.

“Sounds like a plan.” He inclined his head down a pathway. “That leads to a back alley. Should have some privacy there. I’ll run and grab my stuff from the back room and meet you back here.”

I nodded and headed down the path as Carson disappeared inside. The alley was dark, only the glow of the light over the door to the gallery casting a muted glow. I paced back and forth in front of a dumpster, searching for the right words. Everything I came up with felt incredibly pathetic. I could always just throw myself on her mercy and grovel, beg. Whatever it took.

My finger hovered over Shay’s contact in my phone. “Stop being a pansy and call her,” I muttered.