Page 104 of Mended Fences

Then a throat cleared, and Chase and I both looked up at Rhett, who had one brow raised. “We good?”

Chase shifted me off his lap onto the comfy cushion of the couch and stood. “Sorry I pushed you…”

“Rhett.”

“Rhett.” Chase extended a hand, which my brother stared at for two seconds too long before extending his own.

Watching the two most important men in my life shake hands settled something deep in my bones.

“You want a cinnamon roll?”

By the timeRhett was ready to head to the airport later that evening, he and Chase had shared their Super Bowl picks, debated baby names formychild, and exchanged phone numbers.

I’d carefully observed a real-life bromance blossom before my eyes while they each doted on me in their own unique ways. Rhett made sure my forty-ounce water tumbler was never empty. Chase massaged the arches of my feet. But they barely spoke to me, too busy bonding with one another.

It was… perfect.

“I’ll see you in a few months to meet my niece, yeah?”

Rhett stood on my porch, tattered duffel bag at his feet, while I stood tucked under Chase’s arm just inside the front door. That damn burning sensation in my sinuses was my first warning that tears were about to blur my vision. I stepped out of Chase’s hold and wrapped my arms around my brother’s waist.

“See you then,” I said through my sniffles. When I pulled back, Rhett was smiling down at me with all the adoration of a big brother. He looked up, meeting Chase’s eyes.

“Take care of her for me?”

“Always.”

They shook hands and, with that, Rhett took the snow-slippery porch steps slowly toward his rental truck.

Chase and I stayed rooted in the doorway as we watched the truck back out of the driveway, a waving hand stuck out of the driver’s-side window before accelerating down the street toward the highway.

“That was nice,” I said on a sigh as the truck’s taillights faded.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great,” Chase said. “Can’t believe I ever thought you’d fuck a cowboy.”

I whacked his stomach with the back of my hand and rolled my eyes. When we finally closed the door and retreated back to the living room, I let out a loud yawn.

“I should get going,” Chase said. “Let you get some rest.”

I paused, staring at this man who was so different from the man I’d fallen in love with, yet still the same. He was fighting a battle he’d live with for the rest of his days, and I wanted to support that.

But I also wanted to be held, to fall asleep and wake up in the safety ofhisarms.

“I—” I chewed on my lower lip.

Over the last ten days—since that first brunch with Chase back—we’d developed some semblance of a routine. I was back on day shift, and Chase was teaching lessons at the resort during the day. We’d have dinner together—pizza picnics on the living room floor, grilled cheese at Rosie’s, or we’d cook together in my kitchen that no longer housed full boxes of all my earthly possessions. Because after dinner, he helped me unpack, get settled, create a home for our baby.

And then he left.

He’d go to the cidery after hours to clean, then to his twin bed in his parents’ house. He was holding back, and I understood why, but I wanted more. I needed more.

Maybe I was selfish.

But I’d spent so many years accepting less than I deserved, taking one beating after another until not only my body was broken but so was my spirit.

Now? I was ready to live a life full of love and laughter and happiness.

I fucking earned it. Ideservedit.