Page 75
And then…
My husband Daniel thinks I should come.
I think I want to.
***
A week before the wedding, I’m standing on Beck’s porch, trying not to vibrate out of my skin while Beck grills burgers and Jake chases Spotty through the yard.
Jane and Quinn are here. Wes and Griff too, along with Beck’s parents.
Everyone’s relaxed. Everyone but me. Because a car just turned into the driveway.
Beck glances over, casually. “Expecting someone?”
“Actually…” I step closer to him. “Yes, I kinda… invited a surprise.”
He raises a brow, and then the car door opens.
Two golden retrievers leap out like furry rockets.
“Whoa!” Jake yelps, laughing. “Spotty, stay!” I call, but it’s too late. He’s out of the fence like it is invisible. All three dogs collide in a tangle of wagging tails and sniffing chaos.
And then… Greg steps out. Beck goes completely still.
His husband Daniel follows, a warm smile on his face as he looks at Beck, probably questioning the reception he will get.
For one long heartbeat, nobody moves.
Then Beck’s voice cracks. “Greg?”
His brother looks older. Softer around the edges. But his eyes … those are pure Hayes blue eyes.
“Hey, Beck,” Greg says quietly. “Been a while.”
Beck doesn’t say a word. He just crosses the yard in four long strides—and hauls Greg into a hug that looks like it might shatter them both. I’ve seen Beck tearful a few times, but the ocean just overflowed from his precious eyes. Both brothers are sobbing. And I’ll admit, I am too.
And then Roger and Mary come outside seconds later. Mary lets out a sound I can only describe as a sob-laugh. “Gregory Allen Hayes, is that really you?”
Greg glances around—at his brother, his parents, the family he probably thought he’d never see again. “Yeah, Mom,” he says, voice thick. “It’s me.”
The night is a blur of tears, laughter and stories. Daniel fits in like he’s always been here.
Jake immediately decides that the golden retrievers arehisdogs now too.
Greg and Beck sit on the porch, side by side, long into the night.
No blame.
No anger.
Just two brothers finding their way back to each other.
***
Later, as stars scatter across the sky, I step outside to find Beck leaning on the railing, watching Jake toss a ball for the dogs.
Spotty’s trying to herd them, bless him.
My husband Daniel thinks I should come.
I think I want to.
***
A week before the wedding, I’m standing on Beck’s porch, trying not to vibrate out of my skin while Beck grills burgers and Jake chases Spotty through the yard.
Jane and Quinn are here. Wes and Griff too, along with Beck’s parents.
Everyone’s relaxed. Everyone but me. Because a car just turned into the driveway.
Beck glances over, casually. “Expecting someone?”
“Actually…” I step closer to him. “Yes, I kinda… invited a surprise.”
He raises a brow, and then the car door opens.
Two golden retrievers leap out like furry rockets.
“Whoa!” Jake yelps, laughing. “Spotty, stay!” I call, but it’s too late. He’s out of the fence like it is invisible. All three dogs collide in a tangle of wagging tails and sniffing chaos.
And then… Greg steps out. Beck goes completely still.
His husband Daniel follows, a warm smile on his face as he looks at Beck, probably questioning the reception he will get.
For one long heartbeat, nobody moves.
Then Beck’s voice cracks. “Greg?”
His brother looks older. Softer around the edges. But his eyes … those are pure Hayes blue eyes.
“Hey, Beck,” Greg says quietly. “Been a while.”
Beck doesn’t say a word. He just crosses the yard in four long strides—and hauls Greg into a hug that looks like it might shatter them both. I’ve seen Beck tearful a few times, but the ocean just overflowed from his precious eyes. Both brothers are sobbing. And I’ll admit, I am too.
And then Roger and Mary come outside seconds later. Mary lets out a sound I can only describe as a sob-laugh. “Gregory Allen Hayes, is that really you?”
Greg glances around—at his brother, his parents, the family he probably thought he’d never see again. “Yeah, Mom,” he says, voice thick. “It’s me.”
The night is a blur of tears, laughter and stories. Daniel fits in like he’s always been here.
Jake immediately decides that the golden retrievers arehisdogs now too.
Greg and Beck sit on the porch, side by side, long into the night.
No blame.
No anger.
Just two brothers finding their way back to each other.
***
Later, as stars scatter across the sky, I step outside to find Beck leaning on the railing, watching Jake toss a ball for the dogs.
Spotty’s trying to herd them, bless him.
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