Page 50 of Smooth As Whiskey

I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me, “Things are okay. I’m still trying to get my bearings.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He was silent.

And so was I.

Then I heard him sigh, “I’m going to tell you something. I need you to give me some respect and listen. Alright?”

It was my turn to sigh, but I did respect Asher. A hell of a lot. So, I said, “Okay.”

“He’s hurting, Sutton. I know he hurt you. I do. But he’s a good man once he pulls the ‘whatthefuckamIdoing’ stick out of his ass. He wouldn’t be my brother if he wasn’t a good man. Give him another chance, Sutton. If he breaks your heart or lets you down one more time, I’ll put a bullet in him myself.”

I grinned at the thought, but... “But you’ve watched him, Asher. You’ve watched everything. You’re the first person to tell anyone who will listen that if you give someone a chance and they blow it, then they're not worth your time.”

I heard him sigh then, “Yeah, I know. But I know Irish, Sutton.”

And with that, he disconnected.

And over the next week, I did nothing but think.

But in those three weeks.

Packages showed up at the clubhouse.

Jewelry.

Chocolates.

Thick, warm socks.

Spa kits.

You name it, it arrived.

Even the men thought it was funny at first until they had to haul everything to the room I was staying in.

And then a package came.

It was a letter from Maisie.

‘Mommy, I miss you. I know Daddy messed up. I don’t understand all that happened, but at night, when Daddy thinks I’ve gone to bed, I heard him crying. And one time, I saw him holding a picture of you. The same picture he put on my bedside table. Daddy also had the house redecorated, and he bought you new stuff. It’s all in the house. But if you don’t come home, then I’m talking Daddy into bringing me next time when he comes to see you. I love you, Mommy. And I miss you.”

And at the bottom of the letter, read.

‘We miss you too, Sutton. So much. We want you to come home. Forgive him. Please. And I wrote the letter. Irish has no clue about it. – Adeline.

After I read the letter, I folded it up and put it in my memory box.

Then I closed the lid and sat down on my bed.

And then, I didn’t even try to stop the tears that trailed down my cheeks or the broken sob.

I didn’t even hear a knock on the door.

Nor did I see Raj poke his head in.

But I found myself in his arms as I cried big freaking tears.

His only words to me were, “You got your miracle. He manned up. Give him a chance. Alright?”

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