Page 100 of Small Town Sizzle

Happy tears race down my cheeks this time as I practically jump into his arms.

“I want to be with you, no matter what, Garrett,” I say softly.

“Me, too,” he breathes.

Together, we make our way to the bedroom.

Later, as we lay in bed, Garrett’s arms wrapped tightly around me, I can’t hold it in any longer. Silent tears spill down my cheeks, and I bury my face in his chest, trying not to let him hear the quiet sobs racking my body.

I didn’t realize how terrified I’d been that he was going to leave. That the weight of this truth would be too much for him to bear, and he’d walk away. But he’s still here. And as I finally drift off to sleep, his arms hold me like a promise.

The afternoon sun filters through the living room window, as Garrett and I are curled up on the couch, his arm draped lazily over my shoulders. The soft hum of the TV fills the room, but neither of us is really paying attention to the movie playing on the screen. Instead, I’m focused on the steady rise and fall ofhis chest, the soothing rhythm of his breathing, and the way his fingers absently trace patterns on my arm.

It’s been a quiet day, but the weight of what’s coming sits heavy in the back of my mind. Garrett’s nervous, too, though he’s trying to hide it. I can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hand sometimes stills as if he’s lost in thought.

The front door swings open, and Alex strides in, his backpack slung over one shoulder. His hair is a little messy, like he’s been running his hands through it, and there’s a small grin on his face as he kicks off his shoes.

“What’s up, lovebirds?” he teases, setting his bag down by the door. “Don’t get too cozy now, or I’ll have to call the PDA police.”

Garrett snorts, shaking his head, but I don’t laugh. I sit up a little straighter, my hand reaching out to grip Garrett’s arm. Alex notices the shift immediately, his smile fading as his eyes narrow.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his tone cautious. “Where’s Jaz?”

“She’s with Grandma and Grandpa still,” I say quickly, trying to ease his worry.

“Did Devon come by or something?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. “What happened? Why do you both look like someone died?”

“Alex,” I say, my voice soft but steady. “Come sit down. We need to talk.”

He hesitates, his gaze flicking between me and Garrett. I can see the uncertainty in his eyes, the way his body tenses like he’s preparing for bad news. Slowly, he moves to the armchair across from us, dropping into it and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around Garrett’s for support. “I was going through your mom’s stuff, and I found something.”

“Okay…” he says, dragging out the word. “What is it?”

“I found one of your mom’s old journals,” I tell him. “And in it, there was an entry about… about your father.”

His entire body freezes. “What?”

“She wrote that she didn’t tell him about you, Alex. She didn’t tell anyone. She only wrote about it in her journal. But now we know.”

His eyes widen, and he leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “So… who is it?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly.

Before I can answer, Garrett sits up straighter beside me. His hand slips out of mine, and he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Alex,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “You may not know this, but your mother and I graduated high school together. When we got to college, we became really close. We were inseparable, really. But we were also really bad for each other. I wasn’t in a good place. I had a lot of growing up to do and…your mom couldn’t save me no matter how hard she tried. She was an amazing person. I didn’t know she was even pregnant.” He pauses, inhaling slowly before he continues. “It’s me. I’m your dad.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Alex’s gaze snaps to Garrett, his eyes narrowing as he processes the words.

“Is this a joke? Is this my payback for scaring you a few weeks ago? This is…this is twisted even for you, Aunt Maya,” he breathes.

“No, it’s not a joke,” I say softly.

I stand and walk over to the journal. I carry it over to Alex, showing him his mother’s handwriting with her confession.

“What?” he breathes, disbelief etched across his face. “You’re my dad?”

Garrett nods, his expression full of regret and vulnerability. “Yes. I didn’t know, Alex. I didn’t know until now.”

“You didn’t know?” Alex repeats, his voice rising. He looks between the two of us, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re telling me this now? After all this time?”

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