Chapter 33
ELIJAH
For a forty-two-year-old man, I’m in decent shape. But after carrying a squirming Alex from the car, through the house, and into the bedroom, my back is screaming in protest—a harsh reminder that I’m no longer a spring chicken.
Teya kneels beside him, tending to the deep gash on her brother’s face. The love she holds for him is clear in the gentle way she handles his wounded skin. I can’t help but admire their bond.
“He’s all set,” she says, packing away the first-aid supplies. She leans in and seals her handiwork with a kiss to his cheek.
I look down at Alex, sleeping peacefully, wrapped in bandages. There’s no doubt he’ll be sore when he wakes, not to mention the epic hangover waiting for him.
“What were you thinking, baby?” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead. My thumb traces the ugly red bruise on his cheek. He doesn’t stir.
On my way out, I close the door partway and follow the inviting scent of coffee down the hallway. In the kitchen, I find Teya brewing a pot. “Mm, smells delicious.” Exhausted, I flop into a chair at the table.
A lazy smile stretches across her face as she stands on her tiptoes to grab two mugs from the cabinet.
The kitchen is cozy and simply decorated.
A solid oak table and four matching chairs are tucked into a nook.
A large bay window frames a peaceful backyard, where a firepit rests beneath a towering maple.
Tree trunks circle the firepit like stools, and a wooden swing hangs from an oak branch, adding to the camp-like charm.
Sighing, I stretch out my legs and gratefully accept a steaming mug of coffee. The tension begins to melt away. This rural setting is a welcome escape from the hustle and bustle of the city. A full moon casts just enough light to outline the ancient oaks lining the yard.
“You have a nice home. I’ve always liked Connecticut,” I say, thinking back to all the times Gabriel and I drove through this picturesque state, visiting friends along the Long Island Sound.
“Thank you. It actually belonged to our parents. Alex and I grew up here.”
“Is that so?” I pause with the mug at my lips. “I just figured Alex was from the city—he’s got that New York vibe.” I take a sip, letting the warmth spread through my chest. “If you don’t mind me asking… where are your parents now?”
She peers at me over the rim of her mug. “Dead.”
“Dios mío. I had no idea. Alex never said anything.”
She grimaces slightly, setting her mug down before sliding a napkin toward me. “Well, I’m not surprised. It’s never been easy for him to talk about.”
I raise a hand gently. “You don’t have to explain. Losing your parents is never easy.”
“You’re right, it’s not,” she exhales slowly. “But it changed him. In more ways than I think he realizes.”
She shifts in her chair, glancing toward the window before leaning back and closing it.
“He was only seven when it happened. I was twelve, just a month shy of thirteen. Mom and Dad were flying to Greece when their plane went down in the Aegean Sea.”
She pauses, her voice softening.
“The wreckage was never found. Neither were their bodies.”
Jesus. I wish I were drinking bourbon instead of coffee. “I’m so sorry.”
Teya grabs the carafe from the counter, tops off my cup, and adds a splash to her own. “I’d offer you something stronger,” she says, like she’s read my mind, “but all I’ve got is wine.”
I raise my cup in a salute. “Just so happens I’m a coffee enthusiast.”
Which, honestly, isn’t far from the truth.
I was actually quoted as saying those exact words in an interview for Agriculturally Soiled, a monthly journal featuring young entrepreneurs.
The article spotlighted a gay couple from Philly who moved to Puerto Rico and launched a business selling locally sourced coffee.
Café Bonito was born, and it’s been growing ever since.
“Anyway,” she continues, snapping me back to the present.
“It was a really hard time for both of us. Alex was Mom’s angel,” she adds with a soft, longing smile.
“Our parents were flying overseas to adopt a little boy—Mom’s other angel.
God, he was so cute, Elijah. Floppy blond hair and the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. Just… adorable.”
She exhales a shaky breath, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Alex was so excited about becoming a big brother. And let me tell you, he was hell-bent on going with them. Stubborn, that boy. But school was in session, and Mom wouldn’t let him miss it.”
Her fingers drift slowly around the rim of her mug. “I’ve always wondered what happened to that little boy?”
“Do you have a picture of him?” I ask.
“I did… but I’m not sure where it is now. Probably packed away with the rest of the old photos.” She sighs. “I assume he was adopted by another family. Still… I wish he were here. Alex would have loved having a little brother.”
“You can still look for him, you know?” I say gently. “It’s never too late.”
“I know,” she sighs, reaching into a drawer and pulling out an envelope. “But it might not be a good idea. It could be too much for Alex.”
She sets the envelope face down on the table, running her fingers across it, her eyes far away.
“Years later, my brother chose to attend high school in New York City. Our grandfather worked there as a garbageman. He had a small apartment on the outskirts of Manhattan—stayed there during the week to avoid the traffic. Alex lived with him during the school year, then they’d come home on weekends. ”
Her hand stills on the envelope. “That’s where he met Meera. Beautiful girl. Incredibly talented artist. She was new at the school, kind of a loner… but for some reason, she took an instant liking to my brother.”
I don’t say a word. Just nod. No way in hell am I interrupting now. This is the closest I’ve come to understanding Alex’s past. I lean in slightly, catching the glint of a tear forming in the corner of her eye.
“He loved her, Elijah. So damn much. I know he was young—still in high school, first love and all—but they clicked. You know? She was good for him.” She blows on her coffee, then finally takes a sip. “Or so I thought.”
Okay. I know this isn’t the time to be thinking about getting railed, but Jesus Christ—my asshole is killing me. This is exactly why I don’t bottom.
I shift in my seat, doing my best to keep the discomfort off my face, and place a steadying hand over her fidgeting fingers.
“Alex told me Meera walked out on him and Emilee.”
“That’s right.” Her eyes lift from the envelope. “Can I, um… tell you something in confidence?”
“Of course.” I lean in, giving her my full attention. “Whatever you share with me stays between us. I promise.”
She sighs, tightening her grip on my hand. “So… here’s the thing. I may have solved Alex’s puzzle. Years ago.”
She blinks back a tear. My eyes flick to the clock on the wall: 4:30 a.m.
Ugh. Definitely too early for that glass of wine—but something tells me I’m going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than coffee.
“God, this sounds crazy, Elijah… but I think Meera might have had another child. And it’s not my brother’s.”
“What?!” I don’t even try to hide the shock in my voice. “And you never told Alex?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I, um… suspect he might know.”
She suddenly stands and turns to face the window. I’m so stunned by her admission, I can’t even speak... not right away, anyway. First, I need to pick my damn jaw up off the floor.
“Did he ever tell you about the night of Meera’s high school graduation?”
Snapping out of my mental hiccup, I cross the room and gently place my hands on her shoulders. Something tells me she might need the comfort.
“Can’t say that he has,” I admit. “But before you start… I think I’ll take you up on that offer of wine.”
“God, Elijah.” Her shoulders drop as she exhales, visibly relieved. “I’m so glad you said that.”
She crosses to the small wine fridge and pulls out a chilled white. I uncork it as she sets out two glasses. Once I’ve poured, I slide one her way.
“Okay. So… tell me about this graduation night. What happened?”
Teya cracks open the window and takes a seat.
“Well… it was the night of Meera’s graduation.
Alex and I were waiting for her in the parking lot after the ceremony.
He looked so handsome, Elijah. All dressed up for the occasion.
You can picture it, right?” She smiles softly, lost in memory.
“He’d bought her this enormous bouquet of roses—every color of the rainbow, if I remember right.
God, he was so happy. So fucking proud of her. ”
I match her smile, picturing a younger Alex—dimple showing, stars in those hazel eyes.
“Meera was walking toward us, and Alex was practically vibrating with excitement. He was like that, you know? Couldn’t sit still when he was happy. ‘Ants in his pants,’ my mom used to say.”
We both smirk into our wine glasses as we take a sip.
“Anyway, the parking lot was packed with families waiting for their graduates. But as Meera got closer… she suddenly veered off. Like she was confused—or maybe like she’d seen something we couldn’t.
Alex stepped forward, waving that huge bouquet in air.
And that’s when another man stepped out from the backseat of a fancy car. ”
She pauses, eyes narrowing at the memory.
“I remember thinking maybe it was her brother? I mean, who else could it be, right? But this guy was older. Sophisticated in a strange way. He had long, wavy hair that hung past his shoulders—no real style to it. Definitely not the younger blond brother she used to gush about. This man had dark hair… and in the fading light, it’s all we could make out. ”
Her voice falters. I lean in, barely breathing.
“He was holding a single long-stem red rose. And when Meera reached him, he pulled her into his arms, spun her around, and then…” Her breath catches. “He kissed her.”
I stand, stunned, as tears spill down her cheeks.
“One fucking rose, Elijah. One.”