Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Rain patters steadily against the windshield, blurring the world outside into smears of gray and orange. The wipers squeak across the glass in a slow rhythm. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel as I follow the winding road toward the cemetery, the weight of the day pressing heavy on my chest.
It’s been a week since Anna passed away in the middle of the night, quiet and peaceful, with Mason and Maddie at her bedside. I wasn’t in the room, but Mason told me she went gently, like slipping into sleep.
I took a few days off school and stayed in Claremont Shores, despite Mason insisting I didn’t need to.
He doesn’t like admitting when he needs help, but there was a lot of work that needed to be done—writing her obituary, making phone calls to family, sorting through paperwork.
Anna had done her best to plan ahead, but no amount of preparation could cover every detail.
Now, the cemetery comes into view through the drizzle. A sea of black umbrellas blooms across the damp grass, the fallen leaves clinging wet to the ground.
I park at the edge of the lot and make my way over the muddy path to the rows of folding chairs set up before the closed bronze casket. My clothes are already damp by the time I sit down, but I hardly notice.
Across the crowd, I spot Mason and Maddie standing together, surrounded by relatives and neighbors.
Mason is stiff in his black suit, curls tamed neatly, shaking hands and accepting condolences with a guarded expression.
Maddie clings to him like an anchor, her face blotchy from crying but still forcing small smiles.
I stand back and let the scene unfold, feeling like an outsider among all these people who know each other, who have history with Anna and Mason’s family. My chest tightens with the strange mix of grief and distance. I cared about her too, but not the way they did.
A dainty hand clasps my shoulder. I glance up to see Aliyah and Cam huddled beneath a shared umbrella. Aliyah looks elegant in a long black dress with ruffled shoulders, while Cam keeps it simple in a dark collared shirt and trousers.
“Hey,” Aliyah greets softly.
I pull them both into quick hugs, the kind you exchange when words aren’t enough. “I’m glad you’re here,” I murmur.
Aliyah squeezes my arm, her dark eyes full of gentle kindness. “How’s Mason doing? Is he holding up?”
I swallow. “He’s alright. Honestly, I think he just wants this part over with—all the formalities. It’s hard to focus on grieving when you’re busy planning the funeral.”
Aliyah smiles sympathetically. “He’s lucky to have you by his side. You’re good for him, Hunter.”
Heat crawls up my neck, and I manage a quiet, “Thanks.”
She tilts her head. “So, have you and Mase talked about… what happens when he moves back to Shelby Harbor next year? Like, living arrangements?”
The question catches me off guard. “No, it hasn’t come up. I mean, we haven’t been together that long.”
Aliyah shrugs. “So what? Neither have Cam and I, and she’s moving into my place next month.”
Cam smirks. “You know what they say—lesbians bring a U-Haul on the first date.”
Despite myself, I laugh, the sound easing some of the heaviness pressing on my chest.
Still, the question lingers as I steal a glance at Mason from across the lawn.
Would he actually want to live with me? I just assumed he’d get his own off-campus apartment, that we’d keep our lives parallel but separate.
The idea of sharing a space—sharing everything—hasn’t even crossed my mind until now.
For a moment, I let myself imagine it: Mason and I tangled in bed every night, cooking meals side by side, binging shows curled together on the couch. The thought makes me dizzy with how much I want it.
Movement shifts my focus when Stephen arrives, stepping through the drizzle wearing all black.
He cleans up nicely, and when his beard is shaven like this, it’s easier to see the resemblance between him and his children.
He walks straight toward Mason and pulls him into a hug.
Mason hesitates for a moment before tentatively wrapping an arm around him, still adjusting to their unfamiliar closeness
The corners of my lips lift into a small, tentative smile. I’m glad to see them beginning to repair their relationship, slowly but surely, one careful step at a time. But as I watch them, a sharp ache twists in my stomach as my thoughts drift to my own estranged twin brother.
If Mason can manage to reconcile with his father, maybe I can do the same with Landon.
As the priest approaches the podium to begin his sermon, the guests file into their seats. Mason slides into the chair next to mine and holds my hand, folding it in his lap protectively. He gives me a soft, tired smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
“How are you feeling?” I ask cautiously.
His throat bobs as he swallows. “I’m okay,” he says simply. Then, after a beat: “How about you? Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding as my throat tightens. “I will be.”
***
I sit in the corner of a quiet coffee shop near Landon’s school in northern Indiana. My leg bounces restlessly beneath the table. The place smells like roasted coffee beans and blueberry muffins. I can’t remember the last time I felt this anxious.
When I texted Landon to ask if we could talk, I honestly expected to be left on read, or maybe even a flat-out “no.” Instead, he surprised me with a single word: sure. Now, waiting for him, I’m not sure if I’m relieved or terrified.
The bell above the door chimes, and there he is—wearing a crisp gray suit and blue tie.
His hair is longer since the last time I saw him at our birthday party.
He hesitates only a moment before walking toward me.
We exchange a stiff hug, the kind where neither of us knows where to put our arms, and it ends too quickly.
“I ordered you a french vanilla latte,” I say, gesturing to the second cup on the table. My voice comes out steadier than I expected, almost rehearsed. “That’s your favorite, right? You used to drink those all the time during undergrad, when you were up late cramming for exams.”
Landon glances at the cup, then back at me. “Uh… thanks, but I actually cut out caffeine last year.”
Of course he did. A year without caffeine, and I had no idea. The painful truth is glaringly obvious: we’ve grown apart in ways I never wanted to admit.
“Oh,” I mutter. “Sorry—”
“It’s fine,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “What did you want to talk about?”
I swallow hard. “I want to talk about… us. About what happened.”
His brows lift. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“About what happened with Travis.”
Saying his name out loud used to hurt, like peeling open an old wound, but now it barely stings.
Landon’s face hardens. “I don’t know what more there is to discuss, Hunt. We’ve gone over this a dozen times. Travis broke up with you because he realized he wasn’t into guys. People experiment. You’re always saying sexuality is fluid, or whatever.”
I grit my teeth. “That’s not the problem, Land. You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
I inhale a slow, shaky breath. “I know it’s hard to accept. Hell, it took me a long time to come to terms with it myself, but… your best friend abused me.”
His eyes sharpen at my words. I’ve never said it aloud before, though the weight has always been there, lodged in my gut. Back then, I convinced myself it was my fault—because I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, attractive enough. But the truth is, it was never about me.
“Travis never hit you,” Landon says stiffly.
I trace the paper sleeve around my coffee cup with a trembling finger. “Abuse doesn’t have to be physical. It was… mostly emotional.”
Landon straightens in his seat, leaning forward. “Mostly?”
My gaze finally lifts to meet him. Despite having identical eyes, our expressions couldn’t be more different: mine timid and vulnerable, his fierce and guarded.
“Remember that time I sprained my wrist?” I ask quietly, the words slicing up my throat like razors. “I told you I tripped on campus.”
He nods slowly. “Yes?”
“I lied.”
He pauses, eyes dancing between mine like he’s searching for something. “Are you saying…?”
“It was Travis,” I whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “He got mad at me for wearing a shirt he didn’t like. He called me a slut and yanked my wrist too hard when I tried to leave. He accused me of cheating on him—which is ironic, considering he was cheating on me the whole time.”
Landon doesn’t say anything for a moment, his throat bobbing with hard swallows. “Travis told me you made that up.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I had proof, Land. Screenshots. Which I would’ve shown you—if you’d cared to hear my side of the story instead of just taking his word for it.”
His jaw tightens. He studies me in silence, the weight of it hanging between us.
“You’ve known me my whole life, Land,” I continue. “If anyone knows I’m a horrible liar, it’s you. I wouldn’t lie about this.”
He stares down at his coffee, blinking rapidly. “Holy shit,” he mutters, voice barely a whisper as he finally lifts his gaze. “You’re… seriously telling the truth?”
I nod slowly.
Landon exhales sharply, dropping his elbows onto the table and burying his forehead in his hands. “I just… didn’t want to believe he was capable of that. I was mad at you, so it was easier to take his side.”
I shake my head. “Mad at me? Why?”
He lifts his glassy eyes. “Because you stole my best friend and became completely obsessed with your relationship,” he says, his voice cracking. “You and I were supposed to go through college together, but after you started dating Travis, you stopped caring about me.”
Guilt bubbles up like a pressure behind my ribs.
Memory after memory slides into place—matching outfits, blanket forts in the living room, sneaking cookies from the pantry when our parents weren’t looking.
When we were kids, we promised each other nothing would come between us.
But the moment someone else gave me the attention I’d been starving for, I shoved my own brother aside.
I peel at the chipped polish on my nail. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “That was part of the abuse—he isolated me. He made me believe I couldn’t depend on anyone but him. He made me feel… worthless.”
He rakes a hand through his hair, frustration etched in every line of his face. “I don’t get that. Don’t you know how incredible you are? People tell you all the goddamn time.”
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve always been the smart twin. The promising one. Valedictorian, scholarships—”
“You’re smart too,” I cut in, earnest.
“Not like you,” he says firmly. “And you’re Grandma’s favorite. She raves about you constantly. Did you know she didn’t even call me on our birthday this year? She only called you.”
My brain struggles to grasp what he’s telling me. All this time, while I was jealous of Landon, he’d been jealous of me too.
“I’m sorry,” I say, voice hoarse with raw emotion. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
A timid smile flickers across his face. “That’s on me. I never told you how much I look up to you. I always have.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Honestly, I wish I was more like you. You’re just… so sure of yourself. I’ve never been confident—especially after Travis.”
Landon’s teeth grind. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Please don’t. I don’t want revenge. I just want it behind me. I’ve moved on.”
His shoulders sag. “Fine. I won’t beat him up, but I am going to give him an earful before I block his number and delete him from my life.”
A small smile curls on my lips. “Thanks, Landon.”
“Don’t thank me,” he sighs. “This is long overdue. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
“It’s okay.”
He shakes his head firmly. “No, it’s not, but I’ll make it up to you. I don’t want to lose you, Hunt.”
I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “You won’t. We’re brothers.”
A single tear slips and trails down his cheek. The sight makes my chest ache. I’ve never seen my brother cry—not even when we put down our childhood dog. He always kept his composure and tried to be the tough, strong, unshakable twin.
He jerks his hand back to wipe his eyes, sniffling. “God, I’m a mess. Sorry. I’ve just… really missed you.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’ve missed you too.”
He lets out a shaky laugh. “Feels like we’ve got so much to catch up on. Like, Mom and Dad told me you’re dating Mason now? Like, officially?”
My chest warms at the sound of his name. “Yeah, we are.”
A coy smile tugs on his lips. “Can’t say I’m surprised. At our birthday party, I could tell you really liked him,” he says gently. “So, you guys are doing long-distance?”
“For now, but he’s moving back to Shelby Harbor next year to finish his degree.”
He purses his lips. “What about his little sister? Doesn’t he take care of her with his mom?”
The thought of Anna makes my stomach twist. Mason has been working through his grief, untangling the complicated feelings he had about his mom with the help of a therapist—kindly paid for by Stephen, for both him and Maddie.
During a recent phone call, Mason told me his therapist helped him realize it’s possible to feel two emotions at once: he can resent Anna for the times she wasn’t a good mother while still feeling sympathy for her mental health struggles. No matter what, he loved her—flaws and all.
“Actually,” I sigh, “his mom passed away a few weeks ago. His dad will have full custody of his sister.”
Surprise spreads across Landon’s face. “Oh… shit. I’m sorry, bro. That’s heavy.”
I nod, twirling my coffee cup. “It’s been rough, but Mason’s strong. He’s been through a lot.”
His eyes lock on mine, sharp and protective. “He treats you well, right? If he hurts you, I’ll—”
“You don’t have to worry about him,” I interrupt. “Mason’s a total sweetheart. I… love him. A lot.”
Landon’s expression softens, the edge of worry melting away. “I’m happy for you, bro. Maybe we can do a double date sometime with Kara and me.”
My heart swells. “I’d really like that.”
We sit for a moment, the quiet between us no longer heavy, but tranquil, the calm after a storm.
When we finally stand to leave, he pulls me into a hug. It’s familiar and warm, the kind of embrace that makes it hard to let go. For a second, I don’t. And when we do separate, something feels different—lighter.
Walking out of the coffee shop, I realize I don’t just feel like I’m surviving. I feel like I’m beginning to grow again, like roots pressing deeper into the soil, reaching for stability, leaves stretching toward the light.
I can’t wait to see what blooms.