Page 53 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
What was he so afraid of?
Up until now, I’d never questioned why he needed this to go well. I’d just focused on my own needs. Was he being super controlling for any other reason than needing to be in charge and thinking he was always right?
“Exactly. You two have been fighting for far too long. It’s time to create a truce.”
“We have created a truce,” I protested. “This afternoon?—”
“You didn’t. Not really,” Glamma raised an eyebrow.
I sighed.
“When you’re stressed,” Gladys’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction in the low light as she whipped out a deck of cards and slid the first to the center of the table, “do you get louder or quieter?” She was clearly ignoring the side conversation about a truce.
A beat of silence. One of Marc’s eyebrows rose just a fraction, apparently wondering if I’d go first.
I shook my head.
His jaw tightened. “Quieter.”
Of course he did. Marc didn’t explode—he compressed, all those feelings packed down so tight it could fossilize. I’d watched him do it for years.
Everyone turned to me. “Louder.” I shrugged. I wasn’t ashamed of that. “Volume is energy. Energy means I care.”
“So how do we work with this information?” Goldie murmured to her clipboard, pen moving.
Marc was quiet for a moment. Then his gaze found mine, clearly running the calculations of what my answer might be. “If Delaney’s getting louder, something isn’t being addressed clearly. I’d need to step in and stabilize the situation.”
Immediately, my hackles rose.Stabilize.Like I was a loose wire sparking in the corner.
“Stabilize the situation?” I asked, too quickly, the words sharp in my mouth.
Marc blinked. His composure slipped—just for a second. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never once seen him caught off guard.
“He’s not judging you,” Glamma said quietly.
“I’m not.” Marc’s voice was careful. Not defensive—just precise. “Everyone gets overwhelmed. I manage it differently. There are times I need to self-regulate.” A pause. “If you’re escalating, it means something important isn’t landing. Or someone is giving you trouble. That’s worth paying attention to.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Sat with that for a second longer than felt comfortable.
Okay. That was actually … reasonable.
I hated that it was reasonable.
“Next question,” Martha dealt from the stack. “Do you plan or pivot?”
“Plan,” Marc said, with the speed of someone of whom this required no deliberation.
“Pivot,” I said, equally automatic. “While the universe may have a plan, we need to improvise to receive the good things coming to us.”
His left eye twitched.
There it was.
“The universe,” he said slowly, “doesn’t file permits.”
“No, but it does occasionally arrange for the permits to get lost in a flood and force you to improvise, so…”
Goldie snort-laughed into her wine.
