Page 80 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

Some traditions were worth keeping.

Some changes are worth embracing.

Some loves are worth waiting for.

Chapter Twenty-One

Amelia

Mom’s office held the peace of the early morning, sunlight streaming through newly repaired windows to paint diamond patterns across the worn carpet where she’d once walked. My fingers found the smooth edge of her desk, polished by years of her touch, while the familiar painting watched from pine-paneled walls. Fresh coffee mingled with old books and mountain air, stirring memories with each breath.

A floorboard creaked in the doorway. The scent of Dad’s aftershave reached me before his reflection appeared in the window—standing straighter now as if the truth had lightened a physical burden. Silver threaded his hair in the morning light, but his eyes held a clarity I hadn’t seen in years.

My throat tightened at the sight of him whole again. “Just thinking.”

His footsteps whispered across the carpet as he joined me, studying the painting where Mom and Richard Miller stood before a younger Pine Haven. “Your mother spent every sunrise here.” His fingers trembled against the desk’s edge. “She’d stand right where you are now, planning her day, coffee getting cold while she watched the mountains wake up.”

“Did you know?” The question escaped before I could catch it, carrying years of wondering in those simple words.

Dad’s breath caught. His hand found the painting’s frame, steadying himself. “Not all of it. She protected me too, in her way.” A tear caught the morning light as it fell. “Knew I’d try to stop her if I understood the danger.”

The silence between us softened like fresh snow, no longer heavy with secrets but gentle with understanding.

Dad’s jacket rustled as he withdrew an envelope, the paper worn soft with age. Mom’s handwriting flowed across the front, achingly familiar. “Found these in the house. Letters she wrote you, one for each birthday she’d miss. After...” His voice cracked. “After she was gone, I couldn’t...” The envelope shook in his hands.

My fingers trembled as I took it, feeling years of unspoken love pressed between paper. “Dad—”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his touch carrying decades of love and regret.

A shadow in the doorway drew my gaze to Michael. He shifted his weight like the uncertain teenager he’d been that night, dawn stretching his shadow long behind him.

“Come in.” The words came soft as morning light. “This belongs to you, too.”

Michael’s shoes whispered against the carpet as he joined us. The morning sun warmed the canvas that had watched over Pine Haven, over all of us, for so long.

“Family meeting without me?” Hunter’s voice carried warmth as pine and coffee scents announced his arrival.

My body swayed toward him instinctively, seeking his steady presence.

His fingers laced through mine as he nodded to Dad. “Contractors are here about the community center. And Mom’s asking about lunch.”

Dad straightened at the mention of Katherine Miller, something flickering in his eyes. “I should speak with her. About everything.”

“Dad—” Michael started, but Dad’s shoulders squared with newfound resolve.

“No more hiding. It’s time we all talked. Really talked.”

Michael followed him out, pausing to squeeze my shoulder in the same protective way he always had since I was a child.

Hunter’s arms slipped around my waist, his warmth steady against morning’s lingering chill. “You okay?”

I turned to find his eyes soft and concerned. “Getting there.” My fingers traced the familiar pattern of his shirt buttons. “Thank you for being patient with all this family drama.”

His laugh rumbled against my palms. “Like the Millers are any better? Mom’s already planning Sunday dinners for everyone.” Joy brightened his voice at the casual mention of ‘Mom’.

Warmth spread through me at the image—our families healing together, building something new from old wounds.

Hunter’s eyes crinkled with that look that promised mischief. “Speaking of building, I have something to show you.”

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