Page 35 of Rhett & Moses
But for the first time in twenty years, I was facing it all as my authentic self, with people who knew the whole truth and stood by me anyway. And most importantly, with Rhett at my side, his hand in mine, bridging the past we’d shared and the future we might build together.
Whatever came next, we would face it together. And that made all the difference.
CHAPTER 10
RHETT
The final weekof reunion events had taken on a different tone after Moses’s revelation. What had begun as nostalgic celebration shifted into something more complex, a community reckoning with its past mistakes, with secrets long buried, and with the human cost of protecting reputations over truth.
I sat on a wooden high-rise stool resting my elbows on a table in Timbers & Tallboys, nursing a cold beer and watching Moses work the bar. He moved with quiet confidence, his interactions with customers warmer and more relaxed than I’d seen since arriving in Gomillion. The weight of his twenty-year secret had lifted, and despite the messy fallout with his parents, he seemed lighter, more present.
Vanessa slid into the seat across from me, setting down two shot glasses of amber liquid. “Thought you might need this. Moses’s special reserve bourbon.”
“Thanks,” I said, raising the glass in a small toast before taking a sip. The bourbon was excellent, warm and complex with notes of caramel and spice. “How are things with your father?”
She grimaced, downing her own shot in one smooth motion. “About what you’d expect. He’s convinced I’ve betrayed the family name, thrown my lot in with troublemakers. Mom’scaught in the middle, as usual.” She shrugged, but I could see the hurt beneath her casual demeanor. “They’ll come around eventually. Or they won’t. Either way, I can live with my choices.”
“You did the right thing,” I told her, meaning it. “Standing with Moses.”
Our conversation was interrupted by a commotion at the entrance, a group of alumni arriving for the meet-and-greet that Moses and Bronwyn had organized for those who wanted to spend more time in Gomillion after the official reunion events. The party had been planned months ago, but after everything that had happened, Moses had considered canceling it. I’d encouraged him to go ahead with it, suggesting that a low-key social gathering might be exactly what everyone needed, a chance to connect without the pressure of formal reunion events.
Moses caught my eye across the room, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he nodded toward the new arrivals. I smiled back, still marveling at how easily we’d fallen back into sync after twenty years apart, how natural it felt to communicate without words.
Bronwyn appeared at my side, clipboard in hand. “Everything’s set up in the square for tomorrow. Tables, chairs, catering. The mayor’s office even approved the permit without a fuss, which I suspect is his version of an olive branch.”
“Or damage control,” Vanessa suggested dryly.
“Either way, we’ll take it,” Bronwyn replied, checking something off her list. “Rhett, are you still good to help Moses run the gin tasting station?”
“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
The meet-and-greet in the town square had been Moses’s idea, a casual gathering for anyone who wanted to spend a final day in Gomillion before dispersing back to their respective lives.After the tension of the past week, it felt like a gentle way to close the reunion chapter.
“Excellent. I’ll leave you two to your plotting then,” Bronwyn said, already moving toward the next item on her endless list of tasks.
“She’s formidable,” I commented, watching her efficiently direct the staff while simultaneously greeting customers.
“You have no idea,” Vanessa laughed. “She’s been Moses’s rock through all of this. When he first came back to town to help convert the hardware store into this place, half the town wouldn’t speak to him. Bronwyn shut that down real quick.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, a pang of regret hitting me at the reminder of how isolated Moses had been, even when he’d tried to reconnect with his hometown.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Vanessa said, not unkindly. “Twenty years is a long time.”
“We’re making up for lost time,” I assured her, but her words had struck a chord. There were significant gaps in my knowledge of Moses’s life post-Gomillion. While we’d reconnected emotionally and physically with surprising ease, we still had years of experiences to share, stories to tell, paths to reconcile.
“Speaking of which,” Vanessa said, a mischievous glint entering her eye, “what’s the plan after reunion week ends? You go back to Boston, he goes back to Atlanta, and you what? Pine for each other across state lines?”
The question hit close to the ideas I’d been mulling over but hadn’t yet shared with Moses. “Actually, I’ve been considering a change,” I admitted. “My firm in Boston is great, but I’ve been feeling restless. Thinking about scaling back, focusing on smaller, more personal projects.”
“In Atlanta, perhaps?” Vanessa suggested innocently.
I smiled, not confirming or denying. “We’re still figuring things out. But I’m not willing to lose him again, that much I know.”
“Good,” she said with surprising fierceness. “He deserves someone who’s all in, who sees his worth and fights for him.”
“I intend to,” I promised, and meant it.
The evening progressed pleasantly, the bar filling with classmates and locals alike. I observed Moses in his element, mixing drinks, sharing stories, his laugh coming more freely than I’d heard since arriving in Gomillion. Several times I caught him looking my way, his expression softening whenever our eyes met.
