Page 44 of Betting Brett

I take a deep breath and then answer. “Relieved, for starters,” I admit. “It’s like I’ve been holding my breath underwater all this time, and I’ve finally been allowed to breathe.”

Andy nods, his hand tightening around my waist. “It’s been a rollercoaster, that’s for sure. But having it behind us, knowing Izzy is safe and where she belongs...there’s no better feeling.”

Lee leans in, his gaze thoughtful. “I can’t even imagine the stress, man. But you both stood strong, like warriors. It’s inspiring, it really is.”

I chuckle, though there’s a tremor of emotion in it. “Warriors, huh? Felt more like we were hanging on by a thread most of the time.”

Wyatt’s voice, steady and calm, chimes in. “But that’s the beauty of it, Brett. Even hanging by a thread, you both kept it together. You fought for Izzy without letting the stress ruin you guys. That’s the mark of a true relationship, one that’s meant to last.” Beside him, Mark nods.

I look at these men, friends who’ve stood by us through the shitstorm my mother had started, and gratitude swells within me.

Wyatt takes me and Andy aside. “I wanted to let you two know that I talked to Leeanne about your Dad. You know, she has that group of friends that do a lot of the social arranging in town, and I told her everything that’s going on. I asked her if she and her friends could keep an eye on him and help him adjust to the changes. I stopped him and let him know that he has friends here, too. I just wanted to make sure that he knew he wasn’t alone.”

I’m again flooded with gratitude. It’s an emotion I’m becoming very familiar with lately. “Thank you, Wyatt,” I say, “I like to think that would have occurred to me if I wasn’t so preoccupied this week. I’ve been worried about him. It’s a huge change.”

“Thank you so much! That’s a really great idea. I’m sure he’s feeling the loss of some of his church friends, too,” Andy adds.

“I just didn’t want him to feel alone,” Wyatt replies. “He’s a good man caught in a bad situation, and I hope everything turns out well for him.”

We step back to the group, and the conversation returns to a regular flow as we talk about other things, the laughter returning, but beneath it all, there’s a newfound appreciation for the moments we’re weaving here at the ranch. This was a day that would stick with me for a long, long while.

At one point, Izzy says she’s headed into the ranch house to play with her friends from school. Andy turns to me and asks if I want to go for a walk. We find ourselves strolling away from the barbeque toward the quieter part of the ranch. The laughter and chatter of the party become a distant hum, a backdrop to the silence that settles between us.

“Today’s been a hell of a day, huh?” Andy says as gravel crunches under his sneakers.

“Understatement of the century,” I answer with a long exhale. I look around at the quiet fields, welcoming the opportunity for solitude, a moment to breathe in the aftermath of all the chaos from today. The ranch is bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting silhouettes that seem painted by a master artist. We walk side by side, and I’m happy to be here, happy to be with my best friend.

At some point, we pass by the stables, the gentle snorts of the horses reminding me of my childhood. Andy, always drawn to their majestic grace, approaches one. The horse, a beautiful chestnut with eyes as deep and knowing as the night sky, extends its head towards him and whinnies. Andy’s hand, gentle and assured, strokes the horse’s shining mane. The creature’s trust is immediate, an acknowledgment of the kindness that radiates from the man I love.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Andy’s words are soft, filled with awe.

I watch him, the orange sunlight casting a halo around him, illuminating the lines of his face, the curve of his smile. At this moment, he’s not just the man who stood beside me in the courtroom; he’s the boy who shared his dreams under the starlit skies, the friend whose laughter was the soundtrack of my youth, the partner whose strength became my anchor in the stormiest fucking seas I could have ever sailed through.

“He is,” I agree, though my gaze remains fixed on Andy. “But not as beautiful as the man petting him.”

Andy chuckles a sound that sends waves of warmth through the brisk air. He turns to me, his eyes reflecting the light, and in their depths, I see all of our past, our present, and our future. It was magical.

“We did it, Brett,” he says, his voice imbued with a mix of disbelief and triumph. “We faced the hardest fucking battle of our lives, and we came out on the other side. Together.”

I step closer, the distance between us filled with the echoes of the fears, the uncertainties, and the moments of despair that defined us these last few weeks. But here, those echoes are drowned by the undeniable truth of our love.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Andy, I would have cracked under the pressure,” I confess, the weight of the words a testament to their truth.

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re one of the strongest men I know.”

“Stronger with you.”

Andy’s hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining. We stand there, two silhouettes against the backdrop of the coming night.

The horse snorts gently as if telling us just to kiss already.

I listen, pressing my lips against his, smiling. Drinking this moment in. Pure perfection.

“Come, let’s keep going,” I say when the kiss breaks. We continue our walk through the ranch, with its sprawling fields and the distant silhouette of the surrounding hills. Andy’s hand is warm in mine.

As we near the edge of the field, the distant laughter and chatter of the party are a reminder of the community that stands with us. Then, a louder sound attracts my attention. Someone was coming up behind us.

I turn, shocked at who I see.

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