Chapter 23 #2
I feel that one in my gut. “I know,” I say, “because I trust her.”
Zach snorts. “You’re too close to see it. That’s the problem. You’ve let her wrap herself around you, and now, you can’t think straight. And while you’re busy playing house, we’re the ones dealing with the fallout.”
Kingston finally speaks up. “You think she’s the one sabotaging the well?”
“I think her family is,” Zach says. “And she knows more than she’s letting on.”
“She doesn’t,” I growl. “You don’t know her.”
“And you don’t know them,” Zach shoots back. “They’ll ruin all of us.”
“I’m not the one poisoning the family from the inside,” I say. “You want to talk about loyalty, Zach? Maybe clean up your own messes before pointing fingers.”
His face flushes.
“This feud, this stupid, bitter war none of us asked for, it’s cost everyone something,” I continue. “And I’m done apologizing for something I didn’t start.”
“Careful,” Tarryn warns. “You don’t know what you’re walking into.”
“I do,” I say. “And I’m still walking.”
“So what now?” Greyson asks. “We just pretend like nothing’s happening?”
“No,” I say. “But we stop blaming Ginny for the sins of her family.”
“Ryker…” Dad says. “You need to be smart. You’re falling for someone on the other side of something that’s far from over.”
“I’m already in it,” I say. “And if I have to choose between a history of hate or the possibility of something real with her, I choose her.”
Zach shakes his head. “Then you deserve what’s coming.”
He’s always hated that I never had to beg for a seat at this table, that I earned trust while he still fumbles for scraps.
This isn’t about Ginny. It’s about me and the fact that I make everything he wants look easy.
Zach’s not interested in protecting this family. He just wants to watch it fracture.
Not on my watch, even though the silence after my last words hangs like smoke over the table—thick, uncomfortable, impossible to ignore. There has to be a way through this. I remind myself that Mom is on my side.
Then Sadie clears her throat.
She sets her napkin on the edge of her plate. “For what it’s worth, Ginny is my friend. She has been for a long time. She’s going to be in our wedding.” She looks over at Beckett. “I think we all need to remember that no family is perfect. Ours included.”
All eyes shift to her.
“There are good people and bad people in every bloodline. And sometimes, the worst mistakes come from the people closest to us, not the ones with different last names. So maybe…we don’t paint the entire Dempsey family with a single brushstroke, just like we wouldn’t want someone doing that to us.”
Max leans back, lips pressed tight. Tarryn lowers her gaze to her plate, quiet now. Beckett gives Sadie a small nod.
Then Mom stands. “This is Sunday dinner,” she says, looking around the table.
“And I won’t have it become some battlefield.
” She straightens her shoulders, adding with a soft sigh, “I’m going to get the tiramisu.
And when I come back, I expect this table to remember that we are family.
And family should be able to talk, disagree, and still care for one another without letting bitterness run the show. ”
Tarryn doesn’t say anything, but her shoulders drop slightly. She’s still upset but not unreachable.
Mom pauses just long enough to let that land. Then she turns toward me. “Ryker, come help me serve.”
My stomach drops.
There it is. The summons.
Zach lets out a quiet, low whistle. “Oof. You’re in trouble now.”
I shoot him a look but don’t bother replying. I know better. I push out of my chair, bite my tongue, and follow Mom toward the kitchen.
The kitchen smells like vanilla and espresso, the scent of “Mom’s” tiramisu, which she actually buys from the Italian grocer. She moves around the island to retrieve dessert plates, her back to me.
I lean against the counter, waiting.
“I really thought we were past this,” she says after a moment.
She turns, holding a stack of plates against her hip.
“The feud. The assumptions. The ugliness. It’s been years since things boiled over between our family and the Dempseys.
I thought everyone had matured.” She sighs and sets the plates down. “Clearly, I was wrong.”
I open my mouth, but she holds up a hand.
“I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about the rest of them. Zach. Max. Even your father, sitting there like it’s not his fight to jump into.” She shakes her head. “It’s disappointing.”
I let that sink in. “I’m glad she’s not here,” I admit.
“I’m disappointed once again,” she says, offering a small smile. “But this time you’re right.”
I chuckle.
She smiles, though her eyes are still sad. “Look, I know it’s messy. I know the history isn’t easy. But if you care about her, really care about her, then you don’t let the family name stop you. I stand by what I told you before.”
“I’m trying,” I say. “But I know she’s catching it from her side too. Her grandmother’s already suspicious. And if this gets worse…”
“You’ll figure it out,” she says firmly. “Because if she’s worth it, you’ll make it work.”
I press a hand to the back of my neck. “It’s just…hard to see a future when everyone’s telling us we shouldn’t have a present.”
She rests a hand on my arm. “So let me ask you something. And don’t give me the safe answer.”
I nod, readying myself, and her question lands like a meteor.
“Do you love her?”
My defense springs to life immediately. I thought I was just scratching an itch. Keeping things simple. My eyes water. But the way I ache to hear from her, the way I’d fight the world just to sit beside her at dinner… There’s no other answer but the truth.
“Yes,” I say, the word catching in my throat. “I love her.”
Mom gives my arm a squeeze, then turns back to the counter like she didn’t just watch me unravel.
“Good,” she says. “Then we’ll figure out the rest.”