Page 116 of Our Darkest Summer
“But it’s not your fault.” His words were light, but they landed heavy. “You need to cut yourself some slack, T.”
I swallowed, my nostrils flaring as I inhaled.
“You always protected me. From bullies. From Dad’s mood swings… it was never your responsibility. But you did it anyway.”
I flexed my hands, my jaw tight. Being the oldest sibling meant I didn’t have a chance to stay a kid after Mom passed. Not with our dad needing someone to be angry at. But it didn’t have to be the both of us.
Sometimes you can’t choose the life you want to live.
Connor bumped my shoulder. “And who protected you?”
His question cut like a shard of glass.
“You were a kid, too.” His voice was barely above the wind, but it felt like he was screaming.
I inhaled. “I’m the older brother. It was my job. It always will be.”
He was quiet for a beat. Then, “I know Dad was hard on you. And I know you were always scared of becoming like him. But you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”
My throat tightened.
“What you’re saying right now is one of the hundreds of proofs. Dad was never there for us. Couldn’t or wouldn’t. I don’t know. But you… You were always there. Even when you were hurting too.”
I kept my eyes ahead as the ache spread.
He nudged me again. “I’m lucky I can always count on you. But I hope you know you can always count on me, too.” The breeze stirred the trees. “And Dad… We’re adults now, and there’s two of us.”
My mouth felt dry. Maybe the rest of me did too. Still, something lifted in me. My shoulders felt lighter. Connor was right. We grew up. Our father couldn’t hurt us anymore. Not if we didn’t let him.
After a while, I cleared my throat. “For once,” I said, “I think Joshua was right.”
Connor arched an eyebrow.
“The house shouldn’t be mine,” I said. “It should be ours.”
We both glanced back at the lake house. Soft golden light spilled through the long windows.
It had been our mother’s dream to spend time here as a family. For a few years, we did, then we stopped. But now we were back, together, with the faint weight of closure slowly settling over our heads, over the land.
It felt like her final gift to us.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Kinsley
A week later
I woke wrapped in warm,soft sheets tangled around my body, the scent of cedar and stormy night air filling my lungs.Thomas.For a moment, I just lay there, breathing him in. Letting the quiet settle around me. When I turned around, I was expecting his place to be empty and for him to be already downstairs, but he was there.
Lying back against the pillows, with a book in his hands, his dark eyes skimming the words. I shifted closer, trying to read the title of the book, but the letters blurred from this angle. His eyes found mine, like he had been waiting for me to wake up. He closed the book without marking the page.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his soft lips brushing mine.
“Morning.” My voice was still thick with sleep as I buried my face into his side, hiding from the golden light spilling through the window.
Then—
A loud thump cracked through the silence, and I jolted up, my heart lurching as the sleepiness vanished from my eyes entirely.
