“Just get out! I don’t even want to see you anymore,” I screamed at his back as he turned to leave. He just made me so mad. The words hit him like a solid, tangible thing, and he whirled around and stomped over to me, took my shoulders and shook me.

“Listen to yourself, Adel! You’re out of control! None of this is my damn fault!” he roared. I didn’t wince, purely out of spite and fury. He gripped my shoulders too tightly, then let me go, stomping to pick up the boot I’d thrown at him. “Truth is, woman, you want one of them heroes from all your crazy stories! No one is good enough for you! An’ for God’s sake, would you act more like a woman for once?”

I felt heat rise to my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and lifted my chin.

Dane tried to bite his tongue, I could tell, but he only managed to not come and shake me again. Instead, he made wild gestures in the air, all aimed at me. “That! That’s just what I’m talking about. You think you’re indestructible, you know! Any normal girl would’ve come an’… an’ cried on my shoulder by now, but not you, oh no! It’s like you can’t bear to have someone else take care of things – take care of you! Why don’t you just cry, dammit? I’m waitin' here, I want to see you break down for once!” He slammed his fist on the table, making the flame of the centerpiece candle flicker.

“Why?” I yelled, flinging my arms. “Why do you want me to cry so badly, so you can feel good, so you can feel like ‘one of them heroes from my crazy stories’? Is that what you–”

“Yes!”

Everything went silent. I stared at Dane. He scrubbed a few stray yellow curls from his forehead and didn't look at me. Several long, long moments passed. When he spoke, it was much quieter, and he took one step toward me, hesitant. I could feel them now, the tears behind my eyes, prickling the tip of my nose. But I didn’t want to cry. That’s just not something I do. Someone had to have control here. I couldn’t…

“I want to take care of you, Adel. I’m sorry if you’re insulted when I say that you can’t control it all, but it’s the truth. Just… just let me take the reins for a while. You’re just... wearing yourself out.” His face twisted with something like apology and concern, and he came to stand in front of me. Wrapping me in his arms, we stood like that for a long time. I watched the cars pass in the dreary street, watched the rain sluice down the window, and breathed in his scent of wood smoke and warmth.

“Don’t think I’m just going to sit here, knitting by the fire until you bring the cows home, boy,” I mumbled into his chest. He didn’t laugh like I thought he would.

“No. Of course not…” he murmured back, his breath warming my hair. “Don’t think I’m gonna let you sit here and knit.” There was a pause. “Besides,” he said, and now his voice was barely audible, “you can’t knit to save your life.”