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I nod. “Yeah, I know.”

“He’s right, but I’ll add one thing.” Elliott shifts on the worktable. “You’re a good man, Ansel. I’m sure she sees that, otherwise, she wouldn’t be with you in the first place. Especially not with who you were to Caleb.”

I turn that over in my head. Caleb wasn’t honest with her. And I kept something from her. Small in comparison to what Caleb was keeping from her, but something all the same. She’s spent the past however many months figuring out how all the things he kept from her fit together to make a whole marriage that she felt was a lie.

“So what do I do?” I look between my brothers.

“You tell her the truth,” Elliott says. “All of it. What you were thinking with the job. When it changed for you. How you feel about her. What you want your future with her to be. You don’t ask her for anything, not even forgiveness. You lay yourself bare, then you leave it with her, and this is where it gets hard… you wait for her to come to you.”

I palm the back of my neck. “That sounds terrifying.”

He grins. “That’s how you know it’s the right thing to do.”

Hollis pulls from his beer. “And then you show up and do the thing you said you’d do. Week after week, day after day.”

I release a long breath.

For a minute, no one says anything. Sheriff snores softly on the floor.

My eyes scan the shop. The talent my brother possesses amazes me every time I see one of his pieces.

My gaze lands on a piece, and I point at it. “Is that piece for a customer?”

Hollis’s eyes follow my finger. “No, that’s not a commissioned piece. I made that one to sell. Just finished it last week, but I haven’t had a chance to get it listed yet.”

An idea forms. “I’ll take it.”

FORTY-EIGHT

Collins

That evening, I’m lying on the couch, mindlessly staring at the TV, not really knowing what I’m watching. My mind keeps going over my fight with Ansel earlier today. I did not see that coming.

The doorbell rings, and I bolt up into a sitting position. Is it wrong that a part of me hopes that Ansel didn’t listen to me about leaving me alone and he’s here to grovel? Yes, it is, I tell myself.

I open the door to find Nina, Sutton, and Emelia on the porch.

For a moment, I realize the doorbell didn’t trigger that memory. I wanted Ansel to be on the other side of the door. I smile at the small bit of closure I didn’t even know had happened.

Sutton is at the head of the pack, holding a bottle of wine in each hand. She steps over the threshold. “Your girls are here.”

“What are you guys doing here?” I close the door behind them.

“Heard my brother is being an idiot. We came to lend our support.” Sutton makes her way into the kitchen, and Emelia follows.

Nina stops and squeezes my shoulder. “How are you doing?”

I shrug.

“C’mon. It’s wine time. Then you can unload.” She hooks her arm through mine and leads me to the kitchen.

I grab wineglasses from the cupboard while Sutton opens a bottle and pours. Once we all have a glass of wine in hand, we head into the family room.

“All right, what did my shithead brother do to piss you off?” Sutton brings her wineglass to her lips.

I hate complaining about Sutton’s brother and Emelia’s brother-in-law. It feels wrong to tell them our fight and have them only hear my side.

Sutton puts her hand on my thigh. “We’re yours too, not just his. You can say whatever you want, and I won’t go into protective sister mode. I promise.”