Page 142 of The Lilac River

The words scraped my throat on the way out, but they were true. He always said he was acting in her best interest, with love and devotion for her. It was clear to see now that taking control of the ranch wasn’t to give Mom time for herself to pursue whatever interests she had. It was about him being in charge. Thank God she still took charge of the finances, or maybe there wouldn’t have been millions for him to steal.

The boys nodded, each lost in their own thoughts.

I leaned back, letting my head tip against the wall as I stared up at the ceiling. There was a crack running across the plaster, a thin line, barely noticeable unless you looked closely. This bar, that ceiling, they felt like a metaphor for our life with him. On the surface, things looked joyful. Happy, even. Growing up on the ranch had given us memories worth keeping. But when you really looked, when you dared to examine it closer, the cracks were there. Hairline at first. Then deeper. Until they weren’t cracks anymore, but chasms.

The anger still simmered under my skin, but it wasn’t a wildfire now. It was cooler. Steadier. The kind of fire that didn’t burn everything down but lit the way forward. The kind that wouldn’t steal my peace and would make damn sure we never let history repeat itself.

"I don’t think about her much," I admitted, my voice barely audible. "Not because I don't love her. I just...it hurts too damn much sometimes."

Neither of my brothers spoke. They didn’t need to. They understood that kind of ache.

"But today..." I let out a breath that had been caught in my lungs for sixteen years. "Today feels like the first day in years I can breathe without feeling guilty. Without feeling like we let her down."

Wilder grabbed another bottle off the tray the waitress had left and popped the top. The sharp hiss of carbonation filled the gap in our conversation.

"We didn’t let her down," he said. "He did."

"And now he’s paying for it," Gunner added. "Finally."

I let the words settle in me. Let them sink into the cracks and bruises. Let them start the healing.

"She’d want us to move on," I said finally. "To be happy."

"She'd want us to fight for the life she dreamed for us," Gunner said, bumping his bottle against mine. "And maybe stop brawling in bars every damn week." He shot me a look, no doubt my run-in with Forester Bridge still fresh in his mind.

"Speak for yourself," Wilder said with a grin. "I plan to go out swinging."

We laughed, rough and a little hoarse, but real. And maybe for the first time in forever, we meant it.

I drained the last of my beer and stood, tossing a few bills on the table. "Come on," I said. "Let's go home."

"Home to Lily," Gunner said with a knowing smirk.

"And Bertie," Wilder added.

"And bourbon," Gunner grinned.

"And your ugly-ass horses," Wilder chimed in.

"And my ugly-ass brothers," I finished with a grin.

The three of us walked out into the cool night air, the door swinging closed behind us with a heavy thud.

I looked up at the stars scattered across the sky, feeling something shift in my chest. Like a weight had been lifted. Like something wounded had finally started to heal.

A chapter had closed today.

I patted the small box in my pocket and smiled.

And another, a better one, was finally beginning.

For me and my Lila

Chapter 51

Perfect – Ed Sheeran

Nash

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