Page 78 of Ethan

“I’m not asking you to be.”

She looked back at him. “Then what are you asking?”

“Nothing.” He held her gaze. “I just needed you to hear me say I was wrong.”

Another silence.

She stepped back from the door, but it wasn’t quite an invitation. More like she was tired of standing.

He stayed where he was.

“Goodnight, Naomi,” he said quietly.

He turned, walked back down the stairs, strode across the yard, and entered the house.

He hung his hat on the peg, went to the living room, and dropped into the recliner. He stared into the empty hearth for a long moment.

“Shit,” he said quietly.

He picked up his phone and called Cole. Then Seth. Told them both the same thing, come to the house. Neither asked why. Neither hesitated. They just said okay and hung up.

That was the thing about his brothers. When it mattered they didn’t ask questions.

Fifteen minutes later he heard boots in the kitchen, then they appeared in the doorway. Cole took the sofa. Seth pulled the other recliner around and sat. Neither of them said a word.

They waited.

Ethan leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked at the cold fireplace, then told them everything.

When he finished talking the room was quiet for a moment.

Cole leaned back on the sofa and looked at the ceiling. Seth turned his glass in his hands and said nothing.

Then Cole looked at him. “You pushed her.”

“I know.”

“You pushed her toward something she’d already made peace with not having.”

“I know, Cole.”

“Because you couldn’t imagine a mother who—”

“I know.” Ethan looked at him. “I know what I did. That’s why you’re here.”

Cole nodded and let it go.

Seth leaned forward. “How’d she leave it?”

“She said she wasn’t ready to be okay about it yet.”

“But she didn’t tell you to go to hell,” Seth said.

“No.”

“That’s something.”

“Is it?”