Page 30

CHAPTER 30

NATE

The world seems to slow down as I watch Caspian process their words. His hand tightens in mine, and I can feel the slight tremor that runs through him.

Caspian shakes his head, and I can feel him trembling beside me. His features are etched with confusion and pain, making my heart ache to comfort him.

“We’re sorry we didn’t know about you before,” Tristan says, his voice gentle. “We only found out recently while going through our father’s papers after he passed away.”

Tate nods, leaning forward slightly. “We wanted to meet you as soon as we knew. We thought you had the right to know about your family.”

“My family?” Caspian’s voice comes out sharp, defensive. His hand pulls away from mine, and the loss of contact feels significant.

“You’re twenty-nine, right?” Tate asks.

Caspian nods.

Tristan continues. “Our parents divorced when we were nine, and…”

“My mother…she wasn’t…” He stops, swallowing hard. “She wasn’t the other woman if that’s what you’re implying. I don’t know anything about my father, but I knew my mother.”

His voice cracks on the last word, and my heart breaks for him. I reach for his hand again, relieved when he doesn’t pull away this time. His fingers are cold against mine.

“No, no,” Tate says quickly, holding up his hands. “We didn’t mean it like that at all. Our father…” He exchanges a look with his twin before continuing. “He was never faithful to any of the women he married or was with. We just never knew his affairs had resulted in a child.”

“We found something when we were clearing his office,” Tristan adds softly. “A large sum of money was transferred to your mother’s account. Elena Lane, right?”

I watch as all the color drains from Caspian’s face. The pub’s usual morning chatter seems to fade, leaving us in a bubble of tense silence.

“That’s impossible,” Caspian says, but there’s a slight waver in his voice. “My mom worked hard for everything we had. We lived simply. She was a waitress, then a restaurant manager. We weren’t…”

“The transfer happened around the time you would have been conceived,” Tate says carefully. “There’s no evidence of their relationship before that payment and nothing after. It was the only connection we could find. That’s how we think you’re the one.”

“How do you know all these things about me and my mom?” he asks, his voice unsteady.

“I’m an attorney,” Tate explains gently. “I work with families, often helping mothers keep custody of their children when they’re leaving abusive relationships. I have contacts. Private investigators who help gather evidence to protect my clients.” He pauses, his expression softening. “I reached out to one of them when we found the payment records. We looked for your mom and then found… We’re so sorry for your loss, Caspian.”

“This is unbelievable,” Caspian says as if he’s trying to convince himself that this is happening.

“Did you receive a sum of money from your mom?” Tate asks gently. “When she passed away?”

Caspian’s intake of breath is sharp, audible. “I…” His voice trails off, and when he speaks again, it’s barely above a whisper. “Yes, the money I used to buy Special Blend. I didn’t know she had it.”

The silence that follows is heavy, loaded with unspoken implications. I watch as understanding dawns on Caspian’s face, followed quickly by something that looks like betrayal. He stands abruptly, the movement causing the table to shake slightly.

“I can’t do this,” he says, his voice rough. “Nate, please take me home.”

“Of course,” I say immediately, standing beside him. I give the twins a quick nod, noting the concern on their faces, before following Caspian out of the pub.

The drive home is silent. Caspian stares out the window, his reflection in the glass showing eyes that seem to look far beyond the snow-covered streets of Maplewood.

When I pull into his driveway, I turn off the engine and shift to face him, but before I can speak, he’s already opening the door.

I follow him up the steps to his door, watching as he fumbles with his keys. When he finally gets the door open, he pauses in the doorway.

“I want to be alone,” he says, still not looking at me.

“Caspian, you shouldn’t be alone right now.” I reach for him.

He turns then, and the hurt in his eyes makes me step back. “You knew,” he says, his voice flat. “You knew what I was walking into today and didn’t say anything.”

The accusation hangs between us like frost in the air. I open my mouth to explain, to apologize, but before I can get the words out, he steps inside and closes the door. The soft click of the latch feels like a gunshot to my chest.

I stand there, staring at the closed door, my breath forming small clouds in the cold. He’s right. I should have told him. I should have said I’d overheard them talking and had approached them.

Looking at his door now, remembering the hurt and betrayal in his eyes, I realize I’ve completely fucked up. By trying to protect him, I became another person keeping secrets from him.

I raise my hand to knock, then let it fall back to my side. Caspian’s asked for space, and as much as it kills me to leave him alone right now, I need to respect that. It’s the least I can do after betraying his trust.

I consider going back to my place, but the thought of being on the other side of that wall from him, unable to reach out and comfort him, feels like torture. The walk back to my truck feels longer than it should. Each step crunches in the snow, the sound mixing with the voice in my head telling me what an idiot I’ve been. As I climb into the driver’s seat, I catch a glimpse of movement in Caspian’s window—just a slight shift of the curtain—but when I look again, it’s still.

I start the engine but don’t pull away immediately. The heat kicks on, fighting against the Vermont winter chill, but I barely notice it. All I can think about is the way Caspian’s hand felt in mine this morning and how quickly I managed to ruin everything.

“Fuck,” I whisper to my empty truck. I really, really fucked up.

I pull out my phone and hit Addy’s number. She answers on the second ring.

“Hey, can I come over?” My voice sounds rough even to my own ears.

“Nate?” There’s rustling on her end, probably her setting down her paintbrush. “Are you okay?”

“I messed up with Caspian. Bad.” My voice catches slightly on the last word.

“Come over,” Addy says immediately. “I’ll get some coffee brewing. Maybe something stronger.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting on the paint-splattered couch she has in her studio while she hands me a mug that definitely contains more whiskey than coffee.

Paint smudges mark her overalls, and her wavy hair is tied up in a messy bun. She was clearly in the middle of working. “Sorry for interrupting your work,” I say, gesturing at her paint-covered clothes. “I know you’re probably in the middle of something.”

She waves off my apology with a familiar smile. “Please. After everything we’ve been through together, you really think I wouldn’t have time for you? You’re family, Nate. Always will be.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell me what happened,” she says, settling into the armchair across from me.

I take a long drink before answering, starting with the conversation I overheard at the Winter Wishes Festival. “I knew the twins wanted to tell him about being his brothers. I helped arrange it, but I didn’t tell Caspian beforehand. I just… I thought I was protecting him somehow, but instead, I betrayed his trust. I guess… I thought he would be happy to find out he had family. He always seems so sad when he talks about his mom, about being alone now. I wanted to help him connect with his brothers, but instead, I just hurt him.”

“Oh, Nate.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “Your heart was in the right place, but you should have told him.”

“I know that now.” I run a hand through my hair. “You should have seen his face, Addy. He looked so hurt.”

She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Give him some time to process. This isn’t only about you not telling him. He just found out he has brothers he never knew about. That’s huge.”

“But what if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“He will,” she says with certainty. “But you need to let him work through this at his own pace. Just…let him know you’ll be there when he’s ready to talk.” She studies my face for a moment, then asks softly, “How do you feel about him, Nate? Really feel about him?”

The question catches me off guard, though it shouldn’t. I stare into my coffee. “I…” The words stick in my throat as the reality of my feelings hits me like a punch to the gut. “Oh god, Addy. I’m in love with him.”

She smiles, but it’s gentle, knowing. “I figured as much. The way you look at him… It’s different from how you’ve looked at anyone else.”

“Different how?”

“I’ve always thought of you like a tree. You’re strong, Nate. You’re rooted in place. You know who you are, so you’re not afraid of what comes at you. I know I hurt you. Not because I came out or broke our engagement, but because I shook you to your core.” She leans back in her chair, regarding me thoughtfully. “When Caspian came along, it was like a precious bird perched on one of your branches, and you took it upon yourself to ensure he’s safe.” She laughs. “Sorry about the tree analogies.”

I smile. “You’re speaking my language. I appreciate that.”

She places a hand on my knee. “But does he know how you feel?”

I shake my head, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “I haven’t told him. Everything’s been so new, so good. I didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want to scare him away. And now…”

“And now you might lose him before you ever got the chance to tell him,” she finishes for me.

“Yeah,” I whisper, the word barely audible.

“I still think you need to give him space while he’s processing what happened,” she says, staring into my eyes with the same determination I saw when she came out to me. “But don’t leave it too long. Make sure he knows how you feel.”