Chapter 21 Because of Him
Bailey
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Silas says. My head is against his chest, but he nudges me to sit up. “You have to swear you can’t tell anyone this, okay? I shouldn’t be telling you either, but it’s not right for us to be making this decision if you don’t have the full picture.”
“Okay . . .”
His eyes meet mine. “Swear you won’t tell. Not even Hunter.”
“Sure, another secret kept from my brother. What could possibly go wrong?” I deadpan.
Silas pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “I got a call from the Schaefers.”
I tilt my head. “Why would they be calling you? Do they need a photographer or something?”
“No.” The hand holding the paper towel to his nose drops. “They need a real estate agent. They want to sell the lodge.”
I recoil. Sirens Valley Lodge is the lifeblood of Here. It’s the biggest business, and even though it needs a lot of upgrades and most Herevians wish they’d keep it open in the summer as an adventure park or hiking and camping ground, it’s the cornerstone of what Here is.
“Oh my god,” I finally say. “What did you tell them?”
“Well, I don’t sell businesses, I sell real estate, and their buyers would potentially be . . .” He swallows. “A ski conglomerate.”
“I thought one of their kids would take over eventually.”
“So did I,” Silas says. “But apparently none of them are interested, and the Schaefers want to move on.”
I lean back against the couch, dumbfounded.
“I thought you should know. Before we make any decisions.”
I grab Silas’s hand, threading his fingers with mine. “I know how much you love Here. And I appreciate you telling me about this. I don’t think it changes my mind, though. I think I should move to Here.”
Silas’s gaze meets mine. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe they shut it down—they might not find a seller or decide the land’s better empty. Here would dry up.”
“Those are hypotheticals right now, and this is in the early stages. There have been plenty of things in my job—leadership changes, prospective projects, stuff like that—where we waited to plan because the whole thing might fall apart. But even if it does move forward, the town also needs Herevians who are passionate about saving it. Like you.”
I bring Silas’s hand to my lips and kiss his thumb.
“And me too.”
When Hunter returns, he sets his mochi donuts on my kitchen counter next to our Thai food that arrived while he was gone. Silas and I have both put normal clothes on, so at least I’m not in my bathrobe anymore, and Silas has an ice pack on his nose.
“I’m moving back to Here,” I announce. The words feel surreal coming out of my mouth. “Not right away. I need to talk to my boss, finish some projects. But I’m coming back.”
“You’re serious.” Hunter looks between us, searching for the joke.
“I’m serious. I’ve been remote most of the time anyway. And Here has grown on me.”
“Because of him,” Hunter says, gesturing at Silas.
“Because of a lot of things,” I correct. “Including him, yes. But also because I saw Here differently. Through his eyes. And through my own, without all the baggage I was carrying.”
Hunter is quiet for a long moment. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “This is really happening.”
“Yeah,” Silas says. “It is.”
“And you two are . . .” Hunter trails off, making a vague gesture.
“Together,” I finish. “We’re together.”
Hunter reaches for the box of mochi donuts, pulls one out, and takes a massive bite. He chews thoughtfully, staring at both of us.
“Okay,” he finally says.
“Okay?” I repeat.
“Okay.” He swallows. “I’m still mad. And hurt. And it’s going to take me a while to get over you two lying to me. But”—he looks at Silas—“you’re my best friend. I just wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me.”
“We were scared,” I admit. “Of this. Of you being angry.”
“I am angry,” Hunter says. “But not because you’re together. Because you lied.”
He stands up, walks over, and pulls me into a hug. “You’re my sister. I want you to be happy.”
“Even if it means moving back to the place I swore I’d never live in again?” I mumble into his shoulder.
“Even then.” He releases me and looks at Silas. “And you.”
Silas stands, wary.
Hunter pulls him into a hug too. “You hurt her, I do more than punch you. We clear?”
“Crystal,” Silas says, his voice muffled.
When they break apart, Hunter’s eyes are suspiciously bright. “So. Two punches now. One when you were fifteen, one now at thirty-two.”
Silas grins, testing his nose gently. “Guess we know what happens in our forties.”
“Only if you fuck up again,” Hunter says, but he’s smiling now too. “Try not to do that.”
“I’ll do my best,” Silas promises.
“Of course, if I hear any suspicious noises while I’m sleeping on the couch tonight, you’ll be getting a punch a lot faster.”
“You’re really staying the night?” I ask.
“Yeah, well, I drove all the way down here for skis that better be worth it.” He pulls down three plates from my cabinets. “Plus, I’m not driving back in that traffic. And”—he looks at both of us—“we still have a lot to talk about.”
“Deal,” I say.
We move around each other, making our own plates. My mind is a flurry of thoughts about moving back to Here, but the biggest one, the one that scares me the most, is my parents.
And maybe I don’t need to tackle that alone.
I have Silas. And I also have my protective brother.
When we sit down, I look at Hunter. “We need to talk about Mom and Dad.”
“Yeah, we do.” He leans forward. “They’re going to be thrilled you’re back. But they’re also going to be all up in your business. Mom especially.”
“I know. And I need to set boundaries.”
Silas’s hand finds my knee under the table, squeezing gently, and Hunter’s eyebrows raise.
“I’ve been working on it. With my therapist.”
“Good.” Hunter’s voice is firm. “Because I’ve watched them make you miserable for years.”
“I’m going to talk to them about it. I just want to make sure—”
“That I back you up? Hell fucking yes. If you don’t want to see them, they’re not your family. You’ll always have me, and we can tell them to fuck right off. Together.”
Something warm spreads through my chest. “You’d do that?”
“Bailey.” He looks at me like I’m being deliberately dense. “You’re my sister. Of course I would.”
We smile at each other for a few seconds, until Silas breaks the silence.
“Also,” Silas adds, “you have to come to Sunday Fun Days.”
I blink. “The mimosa and waffle game thing?”
“It’s not just a game thing,” Silas says, and there’s that enthusiasm again, that light in his eyes when he talks about Here. “It’s our tradition. All of us. And if you’re moving back, you’re part of it.”
“You have a lot of requirements for me moving there,” I say, but I’m smiling. Because the truth is, the idea of Sunday Fun Days with mimosas and stupid games and people who actually want me around sounds . . . good. Really good.
“One more requirement,” Hunter says. “You have to come to my place for dinner at least once a week. There will be no holing up in Silas’s place, barely leaving the house—”
“Dude, we’ll still see each other all the time,” Silas protests.
“Tell me there won’t be nights in the winter where you’d look at each other and decide it’s too big of a pain in the ass to get dressed for the cold and come—”
“It doesn’t stop me now—”
I laugh, and they both stop to look at me. “What?” Hunter asks.
“Nothing. Just . . . this is nice. The three of us.”
Hunter’s expression softens. “Yeah. It is.”
Silas squeezes my knee again, and when I look at him, his eyes are doing that thing—that soft, adoring thing that makes my heart skip.
“I need to say something,” he announces, setting down his fork with unusual seriousness.
Both Hunter and I turn to look at him.
“Bailey.” He takes my hand, threading our fingers together on top of the table where Hunter can see.
“I know you’re scared. I know moving back to Here means facing a lot of stuff you’ve been running from.
But I swear to you”—his voice drops, getting rougher with emotion—“I swear I’m going to do everything in my power to make you happy.
To make Here feel like home again. To show you every day why you belong there. With me. With us.”
My throat goes tight. “Silas—”
“I mean it. Sunday Fun Days, and helping you deal with your parents, and introducing you to people who’ll love you, and showing you all the ways Here has changed.” He brings our joined hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “You’re going to love being a Herevian again. I promise.”
Hunter clears his throat. “Okay, that was actually really romantic. I hate that I have to witness this, but also . . . yeah, man. We’ve got her.”
“We’ve got you,” Silas echoes, his eyes locked on mine.
And sitting there in my cramped New York apartment, splitting Thai food with my brother and my boyfriend, I realize something.
I’m excited.
Not scared. Not dreading it. Actually, genuinely excited to move back to the place I swore I’d never return to.
Because it’s not the same place anymore. And neither am I.
“Okay,” I say, squeezing Silas’s hand. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Hunter raises his beer. “To Bailey coming home.”
Silas raises his too. “To new beginnings.”
I lift my wineglass. “To belonging Here.”
We clink glasses, and through the window behind them, the New York skyline glitters with a thousand lights. Beautiful, but not mine. Not anymore.
My home is waiting for me in a small town in the Catskills, with a man who sees me as beautiful and a brother who’ll fight for me and a community that grows and changes.
I can’t wait.