Page 68 of When Love Found Us
And when we finally pull up in front of the Timberbridge family house, slow irritation curls in my gut.
I shouldn’t care.
I don’t give a damn about my brothers. I don’t give a damn about what my family thinks of Blythe—of us.
But I hate that I have to do this.
Hate that this town won’t just let us exist without watching.
“We can’t hide out forever,” I say, staring out at the house. Not sure if I’m reassuring her . . . or myself. “But the whole ‘you were a virgin and I had to marry you’ is weird.”
“Anything we say is going to sound weird,” she offers.
I smirk, shifting into park. “Then we don’t say anything.”
“That might be the best solution you could’ve come up with,” she agrees.
“Just remember, sweetheart,” I lean closer, dropping my voice, “the best way to deal with them is to act like you belong.”
Her brows lift slightly. “Okay, let’s see how these acting classes I took in high school pay off.”
ChapterTwenty-Six
Atlas
The secondwe step through the front door, the house goes quiet.
Not completely. Not in a way anyone else might pick up on. The low murmur of conversation doesn’t stop, but there’s a shift. An awareness. Like the air thickens, like the energy tilts just slightly off balance.
Like they’re all waiting.
For what? I don’t fucking know.
Honestly, why invite me if they can’t stand the sight of me?
Galeana is the first to react, smoothing over the moment with a warm smile. She moves toward us with the same easy grace she’s always had since I met her, greeting me with a polite nod before turning to Blythe.
“Blythe, it’s so nice to see you again,” she says, pulling her into a hug.
I don’t miss the way Blythe stiffens—barely, but I notice. She pushes the feeling away and keeps herself composed, but her arms don’t quite wrap around Galeana in return.
No one else seems to see it.
“It’s good seeing you,” Blythe murmurs, her voice even. Controlled. Then waves at Simone and Delilah, who are sitting in the living room, wine in hand.
“I’m glad you decided to join us, Atlas,” Galeana adds, turning back to me.
I nod. “Thank you for the invitation.”
Because what the fuck else am I supposed to say?Oh, I’m just here to figure out my next move and convince the town we’re a fucking happy family.
Ledger leans back against the kitchen counter, drink in hand, watching me like he’s waiting for something—some tell, some crack in my expression that’ll give him what he wants.
Then he smirks. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day you’d settle down,” he muses. “Atlas, the married man. And here I thought you’d die alone, scowling at the world from the corner of a bar—like our father.”
I should let it roll off me. I should.
But the way he says it, the way his words sink their claws into old wounds—I could remind him that he’s more like our father than I’ll ever be. That if he ever watched clips from his old hockey games, he’d see himself throwing punches, losing control, just like him.
