Page 61 of Tango
“Tucker. I love you, but you are not the overthinker of the group. That title belongs wholeheartedly to Elliot.”
I snort. He’s not wrong. I’m typically an excellent decision-maker. As soon as I have the facts, I make one. No overthinking involved. Most of the time, it works out. It’s the same reason why Dylan is alive today.
My decision, based on facts presented.
I knew he was alive despite what I was told. And I acted on that knowledge.
“So tell me what’s on your mind.”
I’ve never told anyone that I decided long ago that I wouldn’t settle down until Dylan found happiness. I know that if I were to tell my dad now, he would likely understand but also tell me all the reasons why that’s not necessary. How Dylan wouldn’t want me to feel that way.
He’s not wrong, but I can’t bring myself to find joy when my twin suffers.
It could have just as easily been me in that cavernous jail cell, clinging to life and never knowing if I would be rescued.
“Alice.”
“Ah, I suspected as much.” He chuckles. “It’s the look you give her when you think she’s not looking. The very same one I noticed your brothers giving their wives back when they, too, were being stubborn.”
“I don’t want a relationship, but I can’t get her out of my head.”
“You don’t want a relationship because of her—or you?”
“Me.”
My father falls silent. “That’s a bit more troublesome, then.” He crosses his arms and leans back in the rocking chair. “Care to elaborate as to why?”
“Not particularly.”
My relationship with my father—all of our relationships with him, really—are based on trust. He trusts me to come to him when I need to, and we can trust that he won’t press until we’re ready.
“I’m not sure I can offer much advice, but I can tell you that it’s okay to change your mind. If you made a promise to yourself, but now you want something different, that’s okay. You’re allowed to grow, and oftentimes the things we think we want—or don’t want—in the past are not the same things we desire in the future. Pray, and let God lead you where you need to be.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime, kiddo.” He pushes to his feet. “I need to go help your mother load her car for the silent auction tonight, but I want to leave you with this. If you’re withholding happiness from yourself because of something you had no control over, you’re not helping anyone. You’re only punishing yourself.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that he sees right through me. The man might as well be a mind reader for all he knows. And his words echo through my mind even though I can’t bring myself to act on what I’m feeling toward Alice.
Despite the promise I made to myself, she’s a client. Anything more than that would make her a distraction. And distractions lead to mistakes.
In this case, those mistakes will lead to death. And hasn’t there already been enough of that?
Chapter 22
Alice
“Thanks for this, guys. I really needed it.” I climb off of Ellie, the horse I’ve been riding for the past couple of hours, then gently pet her face.
“You’re welcome. Horse therapy is the best,” Kennedy replies with a smile.
“Only second to girls’ night with pizza,” Nova adds.
Kennedy points at her. “True.” I watch as she undoes the cinch of her saddle, then mimic it on the one I borrowed. After sliding the saddle from Ellie’s back, I set it on the tack rack then take the comb Nova offers me.
“How are you doing?” the former detective asks.
“I’m alive,” I reply. “Which is more than I can say for my friends. I feel so guilty being out doing this when I should be trying to get them justice.”
