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“Fair.”
“Very fair.”
“Painfully fair.”
“No club operations using anything connected to my life without asking me.”
“Never again.”
Her eyebrows rise.
I catch myself.
“I'll never make that choice again.”
“Better.”
“No deciding you are protecting me by making me hate you.”
“Yeah.”
“And no saying club comes first like that ends every conversation.”
That one takes a breath.
Not because I disagree.
Because the club does matter.
Sweet sees it.
“The club matters,” I say.
“I know.”
“My brothers matter.”
“I know.”
“But so does my word.”
Her eyes soften.
“Good.”
“And if those things ever collide again, I talk to you before I decide your part for you.”
“That.”
Sweet points at me.
“That is what I need.”
“I can do that.”
“You can choose to.”
“Yeah.”
