Page 2 of Shuttered Hearts

“I’m sorry you’ve had to do this alone for so long. I should have come home more?—”

“No. Don’t start down that path,” Caleb interrupts sternly. “You’re exactly where Dad wanted you to be, and I haven’t been alone. Emily is here, supporting me. Probably better than I deserve.”

Caleb’s wife, Emily, has been a blessing to our family. From the way she fit in with us from the first time he introduced her to how she completely loves my brother, I couldn’t have asked for a better sister-in-law.

“We’re lucky Emily married your grumpy ass.” I chuckle lightly, trying to bring some levity to the conversation.

Caleb scoffs. “So fucking lucky.”

There’s a pause, and I take the moment to gather my thoughts.

I know I shouldn’t feel guilty about being in New York City instead of back in Ashford Falls, Maryland, but I do.

Dad was the one who pushed me to get back to work after he was first diagnosed with lung cancer five years ago, and while I fought him at first, he’d been adamant his illness not change mine or my brothers’ lives too drastically. But now, with this recurrence, it’s obvious our lives are about to change in the worst way.

My visits over the last ten years were never long. Most of the time, they were quick weekend trips on my way back to New York from a photography assignment. I'd become a master at avoiding my hometown, exactly how I wanted it when I left for college.

I’ve been running from that place for so long it’s become second nature, and if I allow myself the time to really analyze why that is—especially in the wake of this news—I know I willnever forgive myself. Avoiding home isn’t an option anymore. Doing so would only prove I’m more like my mother than I ever thought possible.

“I could have come home more … or made my visits longer,” I say weakly.

“No.” Caleb doesn’t leave room for argument with his tone. “I was lucky my dreams kept me close to home. I wouldn’t change anything for myself. I’m exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do. I won’t lie. I would love it if you were home, but I’m also so proud of all you’ve accomplished.” The pride in Caleb’s voice has a lump forming in my throat. “I’m glad you’re coming home, though. Even if it is just for a little while.”

“It’ll be more than a little while. I’ll be there as long as you need me. At least until Dad is …” I can’t bring myself to say it. I can’t even bring myself to think the word. I swallow the lump in my throat before continuing. “You’re right. I don’t want to miss out on Dad’s remaining good days. And I want to be there for Max.”

When I left for college, my little brother Max was two years old, and while I’ve tried to be a part of his life as much as I could, I’ve missed out on a lot.

“He misses you. We all do.”

“I know. I miss you all too.” I pause, thinking about my little brother and how this must be affecting him. “Is Max doing okay?”

“Honestly, better than I would have at his age. Eleven is a weird age. He’s old enough to truly understand everything going on but still young enough not to fully grasp what this means for the future. He’s a good kid. I feel lucky he ended up our little brother.”

I may always hate my mother for what she did to our family, but bringing Max into our lives is one of the best things she ever did.

“How are you doing?” I ask.

“You know? I’m thirty-two years old, and I don’t think I understand any more than Max does.” He pauses for a second before he continues. “We’ve been spoiled having such an amazing dad. I will never be ready to say goodbye to him. I don’t know how any of us will do it.” His voice cracks, causing a few of my tears to slip free.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

“I love you, sis,” Caleb tells me after a few minutes of silence.

I love my brother, but if I stay on the phone with him any longer, I’ll never stop crying. “I’ll get everything ironed out here and be home as soon as I can. I’ll keep you in the loop as I figure out the details.”

“Thank you, Quinn.”

Caleb and I have always been close. He’s been the rock, stepping up and taking on everything when Dad was first diagnosed, always supporting me however he could. I won’t let him do it alone this time, even if I’m terrified of going home. I will be there for him the way he has always been there for me.

one

QUINN

Two Months Later

“Dad,you going to be okay until Lucy gets here?” I ask as I grab my coffee from the counter, my purse and computer bag already thrown over my shoulder.

My dad chuckles from the kitchen table. “Yes, Bean.” I smile at his nickname for me—the one he’s used for as long as I can remember. “I’ll be fine for ten minutes. You worry too much sometimes.”

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