“But it is.” Zelda says, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m proud of you, Dash, and everything you’re achieved.”

“Then you have a funny way of showing it,” I say, remembering her jokes at the gala—and how Callie was the one to step up and defend me.

She sighs regretfully. “Then I do owe you an apology, too. For ever making you feel like you aren’t good enough.”

“You owe Callie an apology, too,” I can’t help saying.

“For her lies?” Zelda looks disapproving.

“For implying she was a common, no-good gold digger more than a few times,” I remind her.

“Ah. That.” Zelda lets out a long sigh, then takes a long sip of her drink. “I suppose I made rather a mess of this, didn’t I?”

“Hey, join the club.” I raise my whiskey in a toast, and she taps her glass to mine.

“The truth is, wanting you to settle down isn’t about social connections, or what’s appropriate. I couldn’t give two hoots about that.”

“Then what…?” I ask.

Zelda gives me a fond smile. “I want you to find a real partner, the way I had with my dear Phin. Someone to support you, someone to demand you step up and be present for them, for all the good times and bad. An adventure, together.”

Fuck. There goes that dagger in my chest again.

“And contrary to how it may have seemed when I first met Callie,” Zelda continues, “Seeing the two of you together, I thought that partner might have been her.”

OK, now she’s really twisting the knife.

But Zelda doesn’t seem to realize. She gives a rueful smile. “I know it might seem old-fashioned, and maybe it is. I was married at twenty. But when I look at you, out with a new woman every week, I just worry…” she pauses. “With your parents dying so young, I wonder if you don’t keep people at arm’s length sometimes. Stop yourself from getting too serious, or caring too much, just so you don’t risk losing anyone you love again.”

I’ve barely had time to process that before she adds,

“I thought that with a little incentive, I might force you to move past that fear. It was wrong of me, obviously. So I apologize, too.”

“So…” she continues, clearing her throat. “How is Callie doing these days?”

“I… Don’t know. I haven’t heard from her,” I admit, pained. “Not since that whole proposal scene.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She pauses, and I can almost see her biting her tongue.

Which, for Zelda, is seriously out of character.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. Only… I would hate to see the two of you let these… Unconventional circumstances get in the way of your happiness together. You seemed like a great pair.”

I scowl at my empty glass. “It’s not up to me,” I say, and she gets this funny little smirk.

“My dear, as you get older, you’re going to find… In matters of the heart, you have more power than you think.”