Page 26 of Rhett & Moses
I nodded, understanding the courage it had taken for her to stand against her family. “Thank you, Nessa. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned. “Trust me from what I know about Mayor Hayes, those weren’t empty threats. He’ll try to discredit you, both of you.” Her gaze included Rhett. “This isn’t over.”
“We know,” Rhett acknowledged. “But at least now we’re facing it together, in the open.”
Vanessa studied us for a moment, a small smile playing at her lips. “About damn time, if you ask me. Twenty years is a long detour on the way to where you were always headed.”
Heat crept up my neck at her knowing look. “We’re not... I mean, we haven’t...”
“Yet,” Rhett completed, drawing a startled glance from me and a laugh from Vanessa.
“On that note,” she said, gathering her things, “I have a very uncomfortable conversation with my father to prepare for. You two should probably make yourselves scarce for a bit, let the dust settle.”
With a quick hug for each of us, she departed, leaving Rhett and me alone on the now-empty platform.
“So,” Rhett said after a moment of charged silence, “what now?”
I considered the question, feeling oddly light despite the confrontation we’d just weathered and the potential backlash still to come. For the first time in twenty years, I wasn’t carrying the weight of my secret, wasn’t looking over my shoulder, wasn’t hiding who I was or what I felt.
“Now,” I said slowly, “I think I need a drink. And possibly a very long nap.”
Rhett chuckled, the sound warming something inside me that had been cold for too long. “I can help with both of those. My hotel room has a fully stocked minibar and an extremely comfortable king-sized bed.”
The invitation hung in the air between us, fraught with possibilities. Part of me, the cautious part that had been burned before, wanted to retreat, to take time to process everything that had happened. But a stronger part, the part that had been silent for too long, urged me forward.
“Lead the way,” I said simply.
The walk to Rhett’s hotel was silent, both of us lost in our own thoughts, processing the events of the day. The Mill Creek Inn was Gomillion’s only luxury accommodation, a converted textile mill that maintained its industrial charm while offering modern comforts. Rhett led me through the lobby, nodding to the receptionist who gave us a curious look but said nothing.
His room was on the top floor, a corner suite with large windows overlooking the town square where, ironically, the restored Paul Bunyan statue stood proud against the afternoon sky. The symbolism wasn’t lost on either of us as Rhett closed the door behind us, the soft click of the lock echoing in the suddenly charged atmosphere.
“Drink?” he offered, moving to the minibar.
“Please,” I replied, shrugging off my jacket and draping it over a chair before sinking onto the edge of the king-sized bed he’d mentioned. “Whiskey, if they have it.”
He nodded, preparing two glasses with practiced ease. I watched his movements, confident, precise, the same way he’d always done everything. Some things never changed, it seemed.
“Here,” he said, handing me a glass and sitting beside me, close enough that our thighs almost touched. “To the truth, finally told.”
I clinked my glass against his. “To the truth.”
We sipped in silence for a moment, the warm burn of the whiskey a welcome distraction from the nervous energy thrumming through my veins.
“I’m proud of you,” Rhett said suddenly. “What you did today took incredible courage.”
I gave a short laugh. “Courage? After twenty years of hiding, of letting everyone believe the worst of me, of not standing up for what was right when it actually mattered?”
“Yes, courage,” he insisted, turning to face me fully. “It’s easy to be brave when you have nothing to lose. It’s much harder when you’ve built a life, a reputation, a business that could all be damaged. You did the right thing when it still cost you something to do it. That’s real courage, Moses.”
The earnestness in his voice, the conviction in his eyes, broke something loose inside me, a dam of emotion I’d been holding back for hours, for years.
“I should have told you,” I said, the words rushing out. “Back then, when it happened. I should have trusted you with the truth instead of pushing you away. Maybe everything would have been different.”
Rhett was quiet for a moment, considering. “Maybe,” he agreed. “Or maybe we weren’t ready then. Maybe we neededto become the men we are now before we could handle what’s between us.”
“And what is between us?” I asked, setting my glass aside and facing him directly. “After twenty years, after everything, what is this, exactly?”
He mirrored my action, abandoning his drink in favor of taking my hands in his. “I think you know,” he said softly. “I think you’ve always known, just as I have. Whatever labels we put on it, whatever complications come with it, this thing between us has never gone away, has it?”
