I look up, surprised by the admission. Gunnar and Emerson have always seemed so solid, so sure.
"What changed?" I ask.
"Nothing. I'm still afraid of that sometimes." He shrugs. "But I realized it wasn't my decision to make. It was hers. And she chose us, even knowing what it meant."
Tucker nods thoughtfully. "It's about trust, man. Trusting that she knows what she wants, what she's willing to risk." He hooks his gaze on mine, and I know he’s got something on his mind, but I’m grateful that he’s letting me focus on my exploding life.
“We don’t know Lena like you do,” Gunnar adds. “But that woman doesn't seem like the type to make decisions lightly."
"Or back down from a challenge," Tucker says.
Gunnar swipes to another wedding photo—this one of Lena talking with our mother, laughing about something.
"Mom loves her, by the way," he says. “Keeps saying she’s never seen you so comfortable with someone."
"Even Odin approved, and he judges everyone," Tucker adds.
I stare at the photo, feeling a complex mix of emotions.Seeing Lena laughing with my mother brings back memories of how easily she fit into my family and how naturally she became part of my life.
"The question is," Gunnar says, "what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know yet." I pull Brian’s crumpled statement from my pocket, smoothing it on my knee. “Can we talk about something else?”
Gunnar shrugs and crushes his beer can with a belch. “God, I love the off-season. Is that your press conference script? Let’s see.”
Tucker reads it over my shoulder. "This is corporate bullshit."
"You can't say this," Gunnar agrees. "If anything, the Fury should release a statement that bisexuality is real."
“Thanks, Gun,” I say. I stare at the paper some more and sigh. "Maybe I need to find my own words." I'm surprised by the certainty I suddenly feel. "Something honest."
“Brian will hate that.” Tucker claps me on the shoulder. “I love it.”
We spend the next hour brainstorming what I could say instead, how I could be sincere while still being professional. By the time I'm ready to leave, I have the bones of something that feels right—something that acknowledges the mistake without denying the humanity behind it.
"Thanks," I say as my brothers walk me to the door. "For... you know."
"Anytime," Gunnar says. "And for what it's worth, I’m sure she misses you too."
I lean past Gunnar and conduct an eyebrow conversation with my twin, explaining that we will talk after things settle for me and that he can tell me whatever’s been weighing on him.
Tucker nods. "At least talk to her. Clear the air. Maybe ask Uncle Tim for advice? I’m pretty sure he set up these rulesafter Aunt Lucy started banging Uncle Hawk when she coached the Forge…Tim probably knows the loopholes…”
I make a noncommittal gesture, but internally, something has shifted. Maybe Lena made the practical choice, the professional one. But I'm not convinced it was the right one—for either of us. The problem is, once I go to my uncle with this information, he’s duty-bound to report that we’re actually in a relationship. It feels inappropriate for me to go to him without consulting Lena first, and…I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to her yet because she could freak out and end things before we settle this. I’m definitely not prepared for her to give up on us.
CHAPTER 32
LENA
The student loanstatement sits on my nightstand where I left it, the number glaring at me even from inside the envelope: $325,742.16. A third of a million dollars in debt for a career I have worked my entire adult life to achieve. A job where I can support myself with my brains since I was told my looks would make love a challenge.
"This is what matters," I tell my reflection as I brush my teeth. "This job. This career. This life you built for yourself."
I've never been the type to make impulsive decisions. My relationship with Brad developed due to my mother’s plans and meddling. Every step of my education and career has been carefully planned and meticulously executed—until Alder, when I let my heart override my head.
The manila envelope from Sarah sits beside the loan statement, and the photos inside serve as a tangible reminder of what I walked away from. However, that was the right choice. The professional choice. The only choice that ensures I can pay off my mountain of debt and build the career I sacrificed so much to create.
I brew a single cup of coffee in my cheap machine, and as I sip this mediocre brew, I reaffirm my decision: I need tosecure my position as team dentist. No distractions. No complications. No Alder Stag.
