Page 253 of Burn Bright

It’s all just slamming into me. “Yeah.”

“That one is magical thinking. You also likely have hyper-responsibility, but I’m not a fucking psychiatrist. I’m just well-read and too intelligent for my own good.” He stakes the pole hard into the snow, then bores his eyes into me. “Beckettknows,Ben. He knows what it’s like to go to war with your mind…to the point where I’m guessing he saw in you what none of us did. Maybe subconsciously, he always knew.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“He wasadamantthat you come to New York. We all knew you hit a low point, you weren’t doing well, and you started to pull away from us. But beyond everyone, it was Beckett whofeltthat something was critically wrong. That youneededto live with us. Not in Philly with Mom and Dad, but with your brothers.”

I take a few dazed steps backward.

It was Beckett.

I shut my eyes tightly, emotion stinging. Then I rub my face with my fist. All this time, I thought my own family would be the least likely to understand me. And here they are—the ones who always would.

“I wish I talked to him sooner.”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” Charlie says. “There’s also time to fire your fucking therapist and start being honest with a new one.”

I choke out a laugh. “Yeah, like who?”

“Frederick.”Dad’s therapist.Before I combat, Charlie adds, “There’s little better than the guy who’s been in our dad’s mind for decades. He’ll understand your feelings more than most would. Isn’t that what you want?”

To feel understood.

Yeah. It’s what I’ve been craving.

I expel a weighted breath, trying to throw the monster off me. I stare around at the trees. At the logs, at the snow. At the tiny cabin in the distance. It’s so hard.

It’s so hard to choose this path. “What if leaving is the biggest mistake I make, Charlie?” I ask.

He holds my gaze. “It took hockey from you. It took your friends. It took your family. Don’t let it take her. Don’t let it take you. There will always be dominos hitting ones you never intend. You can’t avoidmistakes.You can’t avoid bad choices. You can’t avoid change. Embrace it and get the help you need. You won’t find it here.”

I stare right at him and inhale the deepest breath of my life.I think I did find it here.I nod to him, overwhelmed. “Let’s go home.”

Charlie took a private jet, of course. I can’t even think about fossil fuels. I just crash almost the entirety of the plane ride. Emotionally wiped out, and he wakes me up when we land. With a kick to the shins. Still very Charlie, but it’ll be impossible not to love him after today, even when we aggravate each other.

He tells me, “I called our family. They all know everything.” He doesn’t give me a chance to thank him. He collects his luggage from the back of the plane and speaks to Oscar.

I asked Charlie to make the call before we took off. It lifts a heavy weight not having to do it myself. Gives me a jump start on picking up the pieces I’d left behind. I just hope I can glue the ones with Harriet back together…I hope I can salvage this.

I’m going to try.

I gather my duffel from the overhead bin, ducking a bit on my way out the door.

When I straighten up, I see Beckett waiting on the tarmac of the private runway. His dark brown hair blows in a gust of wind. His leather jacket zipped. He’s at the foot of the stairs. His SUV parked farther away. He rips out his AirPods as soon as I emerge, and his widened, relieved eyes meet mine.

His chest rises into a bigger breath.

Don’t break down.

Don’t fucking break down.

I chant to myself as I descend toward him, but as I near, I just know—it was him. My ultimate plan would’ve succeeded, if not for him. If not for New York, I would’ve never fallen in love. I would’ve never had all that time with Harriet. All that time with my four brothers. Charlie would’ve never found me. I would’ve never gotten on this plane and come back to find peace.

I reach him on the tarmac, and I know—my brother saved my life. I drop my duffel and wrap my arms around him.

He hugs back, his warm hugs the best of my whole childhood. I want to say thank you, but I can’t even fucking talk.

When he draws away, he holds the side of my neck, still keeping me close. His calming eyes carry so many reassurances. “If something happens today or tomorrow or next week that makes you want to turn around, you need to know something. There will always be storms—whether you’re here or not, butbe here.”