Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Henry
I purposefully chose a seat at a table where I have my back to Tabitha.
Still, my neck itches to turn, look over my shoulder, even though I know all I’ll see is her eating her dinner.
I’m at one of the larger tables with my mother and father, Dave and Maddie, and Angie and Jason. Sage is sitting with Tabitha and her date along with our cousin Gina.
I can hear Sage’s laughter from here, even over the buzz of the entire party. But that’s Sage. Always having a good time. Always laughing.
I used to be so much like her.
Even though we’re outside, I feel like something is closing in on me. There are too many people here.
But if this is bothering me, how am I going to feel tomorrow when there are over a hundred people in our yard? First for the wedding, and then for the reception.
And I’m the best man. I’m expected to make a toast to Jason and Angie.
Six months ago, I could’ve done that with my eyes closed.
I know Angie as well as anyone. And though I only just met Jason, he’s an amazing guy and perfect for my sister.
I didn’t like the fact that they started out as a professor and student sleeping together, but Jason has been to hell and back, and I know he loves my sister and will care for her in the way she deserves.
I was best man when Dave married Maddie—the famous Steel and Pike quadruple wedding—and I had nothing written down. All I had to do was talk about Dave, roast him a little, and talk about Maddie, who is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.
Easy.
All of that was before.
Now I have a hard time talking about things.
A hard time letting myself feel anything.
But I’ll fake it until I make it. I’ll get through tonight, and I’ll get through tomorrow. And on Sunday?
Tabitha will drive home, and I can get back to normal.
Well, my new normal, anyway.
Kind of a solitary existence—work, head over to my place to see how the construction is going, and then back home to Mom and Dad’s, where sometimes I join them for dinner and sometimes I don’t.
They’re letting me have my space, and I appreciate it.
But I have to deal with everything sooner or later. Especially if…
I freak out a little at the idea that follows those words.
It isn’t an idea so much as it is Tabitha’s image.
Not just how she looks on a day-to-day basis—beautiful and brown-eyed—but also how she looks in the throes of orgasm, her lips slightly parted, her eyes heavy-lidded, her cheeks flushed.
So beautiful.
If I truly want something with Tabitha, I’ve already screwed it up. She didn’t deserve to be taken in the manner I’ve taken her twice now.
And when I told her we need to stop?
That wasn’t because I want to stop.
It was because I know I’ve been dealing with her in the wrong way. That she deserves better. And that I…
That I’m lonely, and she makes me want more.
But I’m just not ready.
It’s all fucked up.
Old Henry never would’ve taken a woman in the barn like that. Not at my current age, anyway.
My father’s voice jerks me out of my thoughts.
“Henry?”
“Yeah, sorry, Dad.”
“I asked if you wanted to say a few words tonight. As best man and all.”
“I wasn’t planning to, unless you think I should.”
“I think Sage wants to say something,” Dad says.
I turn to Angie and Jason. “I can say something if you’d like me to. I just figured my big speech would be tomorrow night.”
“Whatever you want to do, Henry,” Angie says. “Right, Jason?”
“Absolutely. I know the rehearsal is usually when the father of the groom makes his remarks, but since my parents are both deceased, and I don’t have any siblings, I’ve already told your dad that I want him to say a few words.”
“I’m proud to do it, son,” Dad says.
Servers are removing our plates. I cleaned mine. My food didn’t taste bland. I enjoyed it. The beef, the potatoes, the asparagus, my mom’s special spiced peach chutney. It’s good to taste again.
And I wonder if Tabitha has had something to do with that.
Once everything’s cleared, the servers bring around more flutes of bubbly.
“I guess that’s my cue.” Dad rises and heads to the stage where he grabs the microphone. “Hey, everyone,” he says. “Can I have your attention, please?”
The talking settles down to a dull roar.
“As you all know, my future son-in-law, Jason, doesn’t have any family left. Normally his father would be saying a few words tonight, but since he’s no longer with us, Jason asked me to prepare some remarks, and I’m proud to do so.”
Murmurs of agreement throughout the yard.
He clears his throat and gazes at Angie and Jason.
“I’m not great at speeches, but I’m great at loving my daughter.
From the moment she came into my life, she’s had this light in her.
Fierce. So full of empathy and compassion.
Bright enough to blind anyone who got too close.
And now she’s found someone who doesn’t just stand in that glow. He reflects it right back.”
Dad shifts his attention to Jason. “You don’t have family here tonight—not the kind bound by blood, anyway. But I want you to know that from this night forward, you’ve got us. You’ve got me.”
Jason smiles.
“You’ve taken on something precious,” Dad says. “And you’ve done it with steady hands—and I’m not just talking about the restoration of your surgical hands—and a good heart. That’s all a father can hope for.”
He raises his glass, and the others follow.
“To the bride and groom. May your love be loud when it needs to be, quiet when it matters, and strong enough to carry the weight of both your stories.”
A soft pause. Then—
“To family—the kind we’re born with, and the kind we choose.”
My father’s words hit me in the gut.
To family—the kind we’re born with, and the kind we choose.
The kind we’re born with.
I wasn’t born into this family. I was born to Francine Stokes and Bryce Simpson. When my father married my mom, he and I became part of this family. Part of the Steel family.
But his words resonate.
The kind we’re born with.
Again, I want to search out my biological mother.
She’s not my mother. Not my true mother. But I did grow inside her, and I have questions. A lot of questions. Especially because I’m having such a difficult time dealing with the fact that I took another person’s life.
Granted, I had my reasons. I committed no crime.
But a life is gone because of me, and for some reason, I feel like resolving this conflict within myself necessitates knowing the woman who gave birth to me.
It doesn’t make a lot of sense.
I wish Aunt Melanie were here. I’ll ask her about it tomorrow morning. We’ll all be busy preparing for the wedding, but she always has time for me. Even when I haven’t made the time for her.
I’m so inside my own thoughts that I don’t notice Jason leaving the table and taking the mic from my dad.
He clears his throat and looks first at Dad and then at Angie.
“I don’t have the right words,” he says, voice low but clear. “Not for this. Not for all of you showing up when I have no family of my own to bring to the table.”
He glances down for a breath and then looks back up. “But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It creates family. It fills in the cracks. It builds something that wasn’t there before.”
He turns to Dad. “Thank you. For welcoming me. For trusting me. For offering something I never thought I’d have again—someone to love, and a seat at a family table.”
The silence around them is thick with feeling.
Then he looks at Angie.
“Angie, you’re my light,” he says. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life earning the way you look at me.” He raises his glass. “To family. And to the kind of love that builds it from the ground up.”
The kind of love that builds it from the ground up.
The words echo in my chest like a church bell.
I shift in my chair, the night air cooler now, the stars pressing in above the ranch like they’re listening.
I think about the man I killed. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t weigh the consequences or think about what would come next. I just saw my sister’s life hanging in the balance, and I pulled the trigger.
Some people would call that violence. But to me, it was love.
Raw. Brutal. Uncompromising. Not something you inherit or fall into. It’s something you choose. You fight for it. Bleed for it. Bury the worst parts of yourself for it, if that’s what it takes.
Angie is happy. In love. Safe. Free.
I helped give her that.
Yet still I ache inside.
Because while Jason talks about family and building things from the ground up, I keep thinking about the woman who walked away before anything could be built at all.
She never stayed. Never looked back. Never showed me what love looked like, let alone how to build it.
If I’d grown up with her, would I have pulled that trigger? Could she have instilled the kind of love and devotion my family instilled in me?
It wouldn’t matter. If she’d kept me, I wouldn’t have been in Angie’s house in Boulder that day. There wouldn’t have been anyone to keep that creep from killing my sister.
She and Jason could be dead, for all I know.
They wouldn’t be getting married tomorrow.
Damn.
Maybe she did make the right choice.
Maybe things ended up the way they were supposed to.
And maybe, if she could see me now—watching my sister beam at the man I protected—she’d know I turned out okay.
No thanks to her.
And every bit because of the people who stayed.
So maybe she needs to stay where she is.
In the dark. In the recesses of my mind.
That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing to do.
But already…
I know I won’t leave her there.
Because something inside me has changed.
Maybe it was the sound of the gunshot.
Maybe it was watching my sister sob into her fiancé’s arms while blood soaked the ground.
But now there’s this pressure in my chest that won’t ease. A quiet knowledge that survival isn’t enough anymore. That blood ties, no matter how frayed or severed, still hum in the background.
I need to look her in the eye.
I need to ask why.
Even if I already know she won’t have an answer that makes any of this easier.
She left.
But I’m the one who has to carry that absence.
And maybe it’s time I stopped pretending it doesn’t weigh me down.
So no, she doesn’t get to live in the shadows forever.
Not anymore.