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He’s right. Shit.
I sigh heavily. “Fine. Knock yourself out. Ladder’s in the shed out back.”
“I’ll go get it.” With a clap to my shoulder, Dad steps into a pair of sneakers that are sitting on the mat by the back door and treks out into the snowy yard toward the shed.
Davis empties his takeout cup in one long swallow. Immediately, he’s looking around the kitchen. “You got any coffee?”
I point him in the direction of the expensive coffee maker I never use.
“Thanks.” He trudges across the room and starts brewing himself a cup.
I observe his hunched shoulders and tired eyes. I may be up to my eyeballs in my own shit but even a blind man can see that my brother is struggling today.
“What’s up with you? You look stressed.”
“More stressed than usual?” He chuckles flatly. He drops against the counter and exhales roughly. “Cash asked me to be his best man.”
I blink at him. “And? Big whoop. We were all expecting that. You two were always the closest.” Growing up, the two of them were attached at the hip. If anybody was going to be Cash’s best man, it was always going to be Davis. “So what’s the problem?”
Davis pauses, his lips pursed. “The problem is, my ex-wife is going to be Meghan’s maid of honor.”
I blink. “Shit.”
I can’t imagine how he must feel. Any time Alana comes around, Davis clams right up. It’s like he can’t even breathe when she’s near. How the hell are they supposed to carry out the duties of being best man and maid of honor if they can’t stand to be around each other for more than a minute?
“Dad is right, Harry. Don’t make the mistakes he and I made.” He runs a hand over his jaw. “It’s fucking torture. Every day, I wake up angry with Alana for the way things ended between us. But every day, I miss her. Every day, I love her. Every day, I wish I’d fought twice as hard for her instead of giving up. And every night, my mistakes torture me to the point that I can’t sleep. Trust me—you don’t want to live that kind of regret, bro.”
Those words send a shiver of fear through me. But before I can offer my brother any meaningful response, the doorbell rings.
Oh, come on. I’m at my limit for unexpected guests today.
“I’ll be right back.”
I leave my brother in the kitchen making himself another coffee and I trudge through the hallway. I open the front door ready to tell someone to get lost. But I find one of my favorite people in the world, shivering on my doorstep.
“I can’t do it, Harry.” Mom bursts into my house and immediately starts pacing in the hallway.
“What? Mom what’s going on?”
“I can’t do it,” she repeats, tracking snow all over the floor. “I broke up with Troy. I told him that I can’t move in with him. I want to. I really, really want to move in with him. I want to move on. Because it’s been sixteen years. And I’ve been so damn lonely. And I genuinely want to find love again. But it feels wrong. Our relationship feels like a lie. My feelings for him feel like a lie. The truth is—”
“Noelle?” Dad’s voice cuts through my mother’s rambling. He rushes into the hallway, propping the ladder against a wall. Davis is on his heels.
Mom’s eyes shoot up, her cheeks going red. “Luther…I didn’t know you’d be here. I…”
My father rushes forward, his hands bracing his ex-wife by the shoulders. “Are you okay, Noelle? Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”
She shakes her head, breathing tremulously. “No, no,” she tries to assure him.
Dad’s brows furrow hard. “So, what. Is. Wrong?” he insists.
Mom tries to speak but she can’t. Her eyes fill with tears as she vigorously shakes her head from side to side.
And then, she just bursts. “I love you, you bastard.” Her fist softly slams into Dad’s chest. “That’s what’s wrong. I love you so damn much. And you’re such a fucking asshole. And you broke my heart into a million pieces…And sixteen years later, I still love you.”
Everyone holds their breaths as my father holds my mother’s gaze with his wide, shocked eyes.
I step up beside Davis and whisper, “Is it just me, or are Mom and Dad looking at each other like they’re about to give us a baby brother?”
