Page 159 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

She looked at me, and I felt every bit of my anger disintegrate into something worse.

Guilt. Regret. That helpless kind of fear that punches straight through your ribcage.

“I needed to breathe,” she said finally, her voice rasping like she’d worn it out on tears.

I stopped a few feet away. I didn’t want to scare her. Didn’t want her to flinch away as if I was one more thing that might break her.

But she didn’t flinch.

She looked tired. Bone-deep tired.

And so damn lost.

I pulled in a breath, thick with cold, thick with everything I wanted to say and couldn’t. Then I did the only thing that made sense.

I turned back toward the cabin.

“Beckett! Garrett!” I shouted, loud enough for my voice to carry through the trees, past the guilt and pride and whatever else was still stewing in that room. “Get out here!”

A pause.

“Now!”

Riley blinked at me, confused. “Asher?”

I turned back to her, my voice softer this time. “I know we’re all mad. I know it’s a mess. But this?” I gestured toward her, standing out here in the snow, trying to hold herself together. “This is more important.”

The cabin door swung open behind me. Beckett stepped out first, then Garrett. Both looked strung out, still running hot from the fight.

Then they saw her.

And just like that, everything changed.

No more yelling. No more blame.

Just three brothers and the woman we’d all hurt, standing in the middle of the snow, trying not to fall apart.

“She doesn’t need to be alone right now,” I said, my voice steady, though my chest ached. “None of us do.”

Beckett took a step forward. Garrett followed.

And I stood still, watching the three of us orbit her like gravity was pulling us back into place.

Maybe this wasn’t the end.

Just the part where we finally started tolisten.

Beckett reached her first. He didn’t say anything, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close, as if that was the only place she’d ever been meant to be.

She melted into him with a breath that sounded more like a sob, and I felt something loosen in my chest watching it. Watching them.

Garrett sat down next, kicking snow aside so he could sit directly in the cold without complaint. He didn’t touch her, he leaned close, resting his arms on his knees like he needed her to see the steadiness in him.

“We should’ve been there for you. No excuses.”

I joined them, dropping into the snow on her other side, close enough for her to feel our presence on all sides. I didn’t touch her either, I sat with my shoulder brushing hers, anchoring her between us like maybe we could hold her together that way.

For a long moment, none of us spoke.

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