Page 77 of The Promises We Broke
The intensity in his voice caught me off guard. "Are you okay, man? You seem..."
"I'm fine," he said quickly. "Just tired. Too many late nights working."
I wanted to push, to ask what was really going on with him, but something in his expression warned me off. Instead, I settled for changing the subject.
"Remember when we used to come out here as kids?" I asked. "You, me, and the boys, catching frogs and pretending we were explorers?"
Dex's smile became more genuine. "I remember you falling in that water trying to impress Billie when we were about fourteen. Came up covered in pond weeds, sputtering like a drowned cat."
"She laughed for ten minutes," I said, grinning at the memory. "But she also helped me out of the water."
"She always did take care of you." Dex's voice was quiet now, thoughtful. "Even when you were too stupid to realize how good you had it."
"I realize it now."
"Good." He finished his coffee and pushed away from the fence. "I missed you, you know. All these years. Missed having my best friend around."
The words hit me harder than I expected. "Dex..."
"I know I'm not really family," he continued. "Not like Booker and the others. But you coming home... it feels like something broken got fixed. Like the family is whole again."
I stared at him, feeling something tight and emotional building in my chest. "Are you kidding me? You're not family? Dex, you've been our brother in every way that matters since we were eight years old. You think any of us would have survived our childhood without you? Without someone showing us what friendship and loyalty looked like?"
"Gage..."
"I'm serious. You were there for all of us when our own father couldn't be. You taught us how to fix things, how to be there foreach other, how to be good men. I can never thank you enough for that."
Dex's eyes were suspiciously bright, and he looked away quickly. "Christ, you're getting mushy in your old age."
"Blame it on being happy," I said, grinning. "Apparently it makes me sentimental."
"Well, cut it out before I start crying into my coffee." But he was smiling now, the real smile I remembered from our childhood. "Speaking of being happy, you better get cleaned up for your lunch date. You need to shower off the smell of horse. Can't show up looking like you've been rolling around in a pasture."
"Probably not," I agreed, brushing grass off my jeans. "Though knowing Billie, she'd find it charming."
"She'd find you charming if you showed up covered in mud and singing show tunes," Dex said. "That woman's got it bad for you."
"You think?"
"I know. And you better not mess it up, or I'll have to kick your ass myself."
"Noted," I said, laughing. "Thanks for the coffee, Dex. And for... everything."
"Any time, brother. Now go get ready for your date."
As I walked back toward the cottage, I felt something settle in my chest. For the first time, it felt like I was walking toward something instead of away from it. Toward love, toward family, toward the life I'd always been too scared to believe I could have.
It felt like coming home.
Three hours later, I was sitting across from Billie at a corner table in the Willowbrook Café, trying not to stare at the way the late morning sunlight caught the gold strands in her hair.
"You're doing it again," she said with an amused smile.
"Doing what?"
"Staring at me like I'm going to disappear if you look away."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "Sorry. I'm still getting used to this being real."
