And I’d let her leave. Alone. Drunk and angry in a town she didn’t know, with no idea if she’d make it back safely.
I’d stood in that parking lot watching her storm back into the bar, and I’d been too much of a coward to follow her. To make sure she got home okay. To do the one decent thing and at least see her safely to a cab.
I’d done nothing. Just stood there hating myself and then walked home.
Some protector I was.
My phone buzzed on the counter, and I grabbed it with shaking hands, praying for a text from an unknown number. Something to tell me she’d made it back safely.
But it was just the group chat. My brothers.
Trace: Big day! Can’t wait for you all to meet Leigh.
Booker: She’s going to love the farm.
Xander: Be there at one. Blake’s at the gallery this morning but she should be there about the same time. She’s bringing Amelia too.
Gage: Billie and I are looking forward to it. I think the girls have been plotting about what embarrassing stories they can share.
I stared at the messages, my stomach churning. They were excited. Happy. Ready to welcome their sister into the family.
And I’d nearly destroyed that before it even started.
If anyone found out what happened last night—if she told them—they’d never forgive me. I’d lose them. Lose the only family I had left.
And I’d deserve it.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I should say something. Confirm I’d be there. But what could I say that wouldn’t be a lie? It was too late to back out now. I’d pulled that crap too much over the last couple of months, and Xander had told me in no uncertain terms that if I failed to show this time he was comingto get me himself. I didn’t mean to push them away. Or at least I didn’t think I did. But seeing the way their lives were changing into this perfect version was hard to watch. Even if that did make me a selfish prick. At least it was on brand with what I’d nearly done last night.
Dex: I’ll be there.
Short. Simple. Hiding everything.
I set the phone down and braced my hands on the counter, head bowed. I’d been pulling away from them for months now. Ever since Gage got engaged to Billie, since Xander and Blake had finalized Amelia’s adoption, since I couldn’t go to a single family gathering without being reminded that everyone had someone except me.
It wasn’t their fault. They’d found their people, built their lives, created the families they deserved after everything Regina had put them through. I was happy for them. I was.
But somewhere along the way, I’d stopped being Dex and become just “the friend.” The extra brother but not quite. The one who was always there. Always available. Always willing to help with whatever they needed.
I’d spent years helping them heal from their mother’s damage. Supporting them through their struggles. Being the steady presence they could count on.
And I didn’t regret it. I’d do it all again.
But when had I stopped building my own life? When had I become so focused on being there for them that I forgot to want things for myself?
Trace had Delaney and the kids. Booker had Reece and the ranch. Xander had Blake and Amelia. Gage had Billie.
And I had what? My grandparents’ garage. My grandparents’ house. A life I’d inherited, not chosen. A life I was maintaining instead of creating.
I was thirty-four years old, and I’d never lived anywhere but Willowbrook and Queens, but that barely counted. That was before. When I’d been too young to realise life could be filled with well-intentioned regrets.
I’d never built something that was mine. Never taken a risk on what I wanted because I was too busy making sure everyone else got what they needed.
There was a dark part of me, small and ugly and growing, that resented them for it. Not for being happy. But for not noticing that I was drowning while they celebrated. For assuming I was fine because I’d always been fine. For not seeing that I was disappearing into the role of “good old Dex” until there was nothing left of the actual person underneath.
I hated that part of myself. Hated the resentment that curled in my gut when I went to family dinners and watched them with their partners, their kids, their lives. They’d done nothing wrong. They deserved their happiness.
But I deserved something too, didn’t I?
