Page 25 of Where Roads Lead

“Yeah, well, my white flag will come in the form of coffee. You can stop by in the morning and grab it. On the house,” he said, and then as an afterthought added, “if you want.”

Um, yes. I did want. Very much.

“You know, you shouldn’t go flaunting free coffees around. That’s a surefire way to make a girl fall in love with you,” I warned him with a teasing lilt to my voice.

He snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think that’ll be a problem here.”

And then he was gone, off to save someone else’s day, but the smile stayed on my face long after he was gone.

Chapter Eight

Will

Damn, did I hate Friday nights.

What should have been the one night a week where I kicked back with a beer and let myself unwind after another mind-numbingly long week, always turned into a weekly obligatory appointment where I had to discuss the highs, lows and in-betweens of life with my family.

Every. Fucking. Week.

At first, it started as a way to help each other cope. After Matthew passed, we all sort of fell apart in different ways.

Mom? She lost it completely.

Dad? He put all his focus on trying to keep Mom afloat.

And Ava? Jesus, I’d never been able to get a full read on her, but she played her part well enough, considering both of my parents assumed she was taking his loss the hardest of us all.

Maybe she was. I didn’t know and, frankly, didn’t care. She’d already shown me her character once before, and I wouldn’t forget it.

The only reason I tolerated her presence is because I knew it’s what Matthew would want. Even if he had known everything that went down five years ago, he still would’ve wanted me to watch out for her.

He loved that girl, in the big, grand way I figured only existed in movies. Flowers and gestures and the rearranging of the stars and planets. He would’ve done it all for her.

And she didn’t even appreciate it.

For me? Matthew’s death crushed me. He was my little brother. And despite us only being a year apart, I’d taken that role very seriously our entire lives.

The fact that I hadn’t been there the moment he needed me? It was something I’d never get over. Not for as long as I lived.

And despite the fact that grieving around other people had never been, and never would be me—I knew my parents needed me, so I attended their weekly dinners, thinking they would eventually taper off as we all found our footing again.

But somehow, three years later, we were still going. With no end in sight.

Trying to compose myself for the hour ahead, I sucked in a breath and lifted my fist to knock on the door of the house I grew up in.

“Will.” Ava appeared in the doorway before my knuckles even made contact. “Come in.”

That was Ava, ever the hostess of the Hughes family. Every week, she was here early, helping with dinner and setting up the table, and staying late to clean. It’s as if she were trying to solidify her place in the family, now that Matthew wasn’t here to secure it for her.

Little did she know, my parents were probably more attached to her than they were to me, viewing her as the daughter they never had. She was set for life.

I stepped past her into the house, trying to look anywhere but at her.

“Is that Will?” my mother’s voice called from the kitchen straight ahead.

“Who else would it be, Mom?” I threw out, walking down the hallway with Ava lingering close behind.

“I didn’t see you at the café at all today,” Ava asked, thinking she wasn’t utterly transparent as she fished for information.