Page 95 of Full Tilt
“But.”
She always had a knack for pivoting with a word like that.
“But,” she continues, “seeing you two together—it’s wonderful, Brent. It really is. But it also makes me wonder.”
“About what?” I ask, even though I already know.
Her gaze holds mine. “Are you ever coming back?”
The question lands like a punch to the ribs. Not because I didn’t expect it, but because I don’t have a clean answer. Not anymore.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I used to think I might. But… things feel different now.”
“Because of Cam?”
“Partly,” I admit. “But it’s not just him. It’s the studio, the life I’ve built. The quiet I’ve found there.”
She nods slowly, absorbing that. “You’ve always needed that. A place that made you feel steady.”
I huff out a laugh. “You saying we’re chaotic?”
She grins. “Oh, definitely. But you thrive in calm.”
I swallow, suddenly aware of how dry my throat is. Mom’s looking at me like she’s seeing me at five years old again, like she can still peel back every layer of my armour with a single glance. I shift on the seat, my hands half in my pockets, half itching to fidget with something.
“Mom…,” I start and then pause, steadying myself. I meet her eyes. “I’m happy. Really happy.”
Her expression doesn’t change, but something in her softens, just a little.
“I’m not saying I’ll never move back,” I continue, my voice quieter now. “This house, this family—it’s always gonna be a part of me. And yeah, I miss you guys like hell. But right now… Cam’s important to me. Really important.”
The truth of it settles heavy and warm in my chest as I say it. Like something I’ve been carrying finally has shape.
I watch her process the words. Her mouth presses into a thin line, not angry, just thoughtful.
“And Exeter…” I glance towards the living room, where I can hear Cam’s low voice chatting with one of my brothers. I smile despite the tension in my shoulders. “It feels like home.”
Mom doesn’t say anything for a moment. She steps forwards, lays her hand gently on my cheek, then sighs, her thumb brushing along my jaw. “I just don’t want to lose you to another continent, Brent.”
I nod slowly, pressing my hand over hers. “You’re not losing me. You’re gaining someone who makes me feel more like myself than I ever have.”
She blinks quickly, and I pretend not to notice the sudden gloss in her eyes. Then she pulls me into a hug, tight and lingering. I let myself melt into it, feeling twelve years old again—but also more grown-up than I’ve ever been.
“You always have to follow your heart, Brent. Just promise me—promise us—you won’t forget where home started.”
“I won’t,” I whisper.
And then, behind us, there’s the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.
My heart stutters as I turn. Cam’s standing in the doorway, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his eyes a little too unreadable. I have no idea how long he’s been there. Long enough, probably.
But that—well, that’s a conversation for the drive.
Cam steps fully into the room, saying, “I’m all packed and ready.”
I nod and we head to the kitchen so he can say goodbye to the rest of the family. Mom hugs him again, tells him to play smart and stay safe and that she can’t wait to see him play. Rachel gives him a thumbs-up, then nudges me with a wink that I pointedly ignore. The twins are already halfway out the door, yelling something about good luck and Banana Ball, and Cosmo’s nowhere to be seen—he had to head out early this morning for the summer league he’s involved in.
“I’ll be back tonight,” I tell Mom as Cam and I move towards the door. “But we’ll FaceTime before the match on the seventh so you can wish him luck.”
