Page 208 of Holding On To Good

But a few hours, the bright light of day and a bit of sobriety told him that was all bullshit.

Letting go of Willow wasn’t an option.

But neither was getting her back.

No. He wasn’t moving. Not yet.

If he had his way, he’d stay there, right there, under the scalding spray, naked and sick with remorse and too much alcohol forever.

Someone knocked on the door twice before it opened a crack. “Coffee’s ready,” Toby called.

Urban sighed. He wasn’t getting his way. Not in this.

Nothing new there.

Still, he indulged himself and his self-pity for another minute. Then two.

He couldn’t go back.

Didn’t want to move forward.

But what he wanted didn’t matter, so he washed the sweat and lingering scent of Willow off his body, patted his chest and legs with a towel, then put on the pair of clean sweatpants Toby must’ve tossed onto the counter.

He padded down the hall, barefoot and bare-chested, hair dripping wet, water clinging to his beard, not the least bit surprised to find Miles in the kitchen leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.

Not surprised, but not happy to have yet another witness to the lowest point in his life.

Could be worse, he reassured himself. It could’ve been Silas who’d found him passed out and drooling on the couch.

Could be Verity watching him with a mix of pity and disappointment.

He accepted the glass of water Toby held out without a word. Drank deeply.

“Want to talk about it?” Miles asked.

Urban’s fingers tightened on the glass as he slowly lowered it. He couldn’t talk about it. Didn’t have the words to explain how tore up he felt. How lost.

How alone.

How fucking terrified he was that he’d messed up somehow.

That he’d never be able to fix it.

He shook his head. No way was he even opening his mouth. He was too on edge. Too close to blurting out all those truths, letting loose all those fears.

Way too close to breaking down.

Miles and Toby exchanged a look, then Miles nodded. Clapped Urban lightly on the shoulder, then kept his hand there, warm and firm and comforting.

“You change your mind,” Miles said, soft and sincere, “we’re here.”

Urban’s throat closed. Yeah, they were here. it was a universal truth he hadn’t even realized he believed in until now.

His brothers—these two brothers—have always been there. From the time he took responsibility for their family, through all the years of helping him raise Silas, Eli and Verity, to now.

They had his back.

“I know,” he said, just as soft. As sincere. He turned to Toby. “I know.”

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