Chapter Twenty Two
Finn
It was almost one in the morning, with a full wedding the next day.
I expected the house to be dark and quiet, like sneaking in when Miles and I were sixteen.
The guys should’ve been sleeping off whatever booze they drank at the rehearsal.
It wasn’t loud, but conversations floated in the air, hushed, rushed, and anxious.
“Finn, have you heard from him?” Mrs. Beckett approached me from behind in the kitchen. Deep worry lines and dark bags framed her eyes.
“Ryder?” I asked, and she nodded. “No, sorry, Mrs. Beckett, I haven’t. I’m sure he’s home by now.”
“He’s not. We stopped there on the way back from dinner.”
My stomach sank. I didn’t know where he was, but I cared. And was starting to worry.
“Can I do anything to help?”
“No, no.” She gave me a weak smile and patted my arm. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll turn up for the wedding.” She chuckled. “But thank you, hon. You never stop worrying about your kids, even when they’re grown. Maybe,” she looked past me, “check on Miles? He seems… Just make sure he’s okay.”
“Will do.”
I found Miles sitting by himself near their back door. He looked like shit.
“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” I said, assuming the best of him.
“Huh?” Miles took his time looking up at me.
“Ryder? He’s still missing.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m sure he’s fine.”
I stared down at him for a few seconds. “Hey, can we talk outside for a sec?”
“Sure.”
He looked miserable, but not about his brother. I’d never wanted to punch him in the face so badly in the years I’d known him.
“Bree’s shitfaced,” I said once we sat down.
“Fuck… You saw that?”
“I drove her and your future sister-in-law to the hotel. Bell is fall-down drunk.”
“Damn.” He glanced away. “Thanks for that, man.”
“She told me a lot of stuff in the car, bro. Did you kick Ryder out of the best man spot ‘cause he’s gay?”
I’d never seen every muscle in a person’s body tense completely while their face went blank. Miles stared at me for a second until he hung his head and said, “Yeah.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Miles.” I clenched my fist and took a breath. “And the wedding party, too?”
He squeezed his eyes tight and swung his head away. Then nodded.
“That’s so fucked up, man. Why? Why would you do that?”
Miles lifted his bloodshot, glassy eyes to meet mine.
“I didn’t.” His throat sounded like it was closing.
“Bree assumed you were the best man, and when I told her it was Ryder, she got upset…” Miles swallowed.
“Then she said the wedding would be off if he was in the party at all, that she couldn’t subject her family and friends, or followers, to that. ”
I loved him like a brother. He knew every part of me, except one, though he knew that too. Miles was there for me, for everything, as I was there for him. But in that moment, the only thing left was disgust.
“How could you let her do that? You should’ve heard what she was saying about your brother in the car. She’s a fucking bigot.” Light from the house caught flecks of spit leaving my mouth. “And now you are, too.”
His face contorted as the tears finally fell. “Don’t say that! I’m not. I love my brother!”
“That’s not love, bro. You don’t treat people you love like that. Do you have any idea what he’s been going through? Or what it’s been like for him?”
Miles held his face, elbows on his knees.
He didn’t make much sound, but it was clear he was crying.
“Fuck, man. Fuck. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
He didn’t seem that mad. I want my fucking brother standing next to me, man.
No offense. That’s why I called you my number one male.
He’s my best man. I fucking love him, why can’t he see that?
Why can’t he just understand how hard this is on me? ”
“How hard it is on you?”
His face was a mess. “Yeah, man. It is. My family is so pissed at me, she’s so pissed at me. I just can’t seem to get a fucking break!” He scrunched up tight. “And where was he tonight? Huh? Couldn’t even show up to support me.”
“Support you? I—”
“What’s going on out here, boys?” I hadn’t heard Mr. Beckett come outside, and his sudden presence startled me.
“Yeah, Dad. We’re good,” Miles said, wiping his eyes on his forearm. “Just some pre-wedding jitters.” He tried to laugh.
“Miles, I heard what you were saying.” Mr. Beckett said. “Is that true? You told me Ryder was too busy.”
I couldn’t place the look on Mr. Beckett's face, which was already in shadow with his back to the house. But his voice was tight and controlled.
“It... fuck man,” Miles said, openly crying. “She just has more traditional views. That doesn’t mean I don’t love him. That doesn't mean I don’t want him in my life. So what if she has a different opinion, right? What’s the big deal?”
It didn’t matter how dark it was, or where the shadows fell, his clipped voice shone through. “I raised you better than that.”
“Hank? Are you out there?” his wife said, walking outside with Lena. “Have you heard—Oh! I didn’t see you, boys. Is… is everything okay?”
Mr. Beckett kept his eyes on his son while his jaw flexed. Before his wife could ask again, he turned to her and said, “Miles removed Ryder from the wedding because he’s gay, at Bree’s request.”
“What?” Mrs. Beckett asked.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lena said. “I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it! I can’t believe you, you fucking piece of shit.”
Mrs. Beckett said, “Lena, please.” Her daughter quieted, but folded her arms, shifting her weight from side to side. “What’s going on? Who said that?”
“Go on, Finn, tell her what you told Miles,” Mr. Beckett said.
Miles and I shared a look. There was a plea in his eyes, but it wasn’t to lie. Maybe it was to understand him or give him a break. Fuck that bullshit.
I turned to Mrs. Beckett. “Bree told me she forced Miles to remove Ryder from the wedding because he’s gay.” I glared at him. “She also called him a sissy bitch, said you were all heathens, called her fiancé a whiny little bitch with no spine, and all but hit on me at the bar tonight.”
There was no point in expressing my anger at Bree. Giving Miles an ounce of it was better, but also deeply shitty. Miles closed his eyes as his chin quivered. I hated doing that to him.
Lena said, “That fucking—”
“Lena! Enough,” her dad said. “She told you that? All of it?”
I nodded. “Yes. It was… hard to hear.”
“For fuck’s sake, Miles. Jesus.” I’d heard their dad curse when he missed a shot on the golf course or dropped a wrench on his toe, but it was rare. He raked a hand through his hair as he paced.
Mrs. Beckett sat down and held her son’s hands on his knees. “Miles, has she said that kind of stuff to you before?”
“I just… she just… it’s not like… she’s not…” Miles cried and squeezed his mom’s hands, but wouldn’t look at any of us.
“Miles, honey, look at me.” She guided her son’s face to hers with a feather touch on his chin. “This is important. Does she speak to you that way often? Calling you names?”
“She has a temper, yeah.”
“What does that mean? Can you explain it to me?”
Miles sniffled and took a breath, calming down. “She calls me names sometimes, yeah. But I know it’s just because she gets frustrated with me. She’s under so much pressure trying to make it as an influencer. So, I get it. It’s not a big deal. It’s my fault for pissing her off.”
After hearing what she thought of her friends, that wasn’t surprising in the least. I wished Lena had been in the car with me. She’d have far more interesting things to say to the blushing bride.
“Has she…” His mom was unwavering, never letting her eyes slip from her son. “Honey, has she ever hit you?”
“No. She shoves me when she’s really upset sometimes, but she’s never hit me.” He chuckled through his tears. “She’s so small. It’s funny.” The wetness on his cheeks kept catching the light, making his breezy tone sound insane.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, my stomach turning. Shoving wasn’t hitting. But it also wasn’t the way someone should treat their future spouse.
His mom shared a pursed-lip, tight-eyed look with her husband. “Okay. Okay. Would she… Does she get mad at you when you hang out with your friends or us?”
Miles swallowed. “She doesn’t love it when I go out. Men are supposed to be providers. The breadwinner and leader. You know? Like… I can’t… I shouldn’t be going out anyway. What for? Spend money and drink and look at girls? No way.”
I’d heard him say something like that before. What a gross sentiment. The vast majority of us hanging out before he met her was video games, pizza, and beer. I dragged a hand down my face.
“Dinner with your family isn’t the same as a damn strip club, bud,” Mr. Beckett said from behind me, startling me again.
“Hank, please,” Mrs. Beckett said. Then turned back to Miles. “Has she ever tried to get you to stay when you wanted to leave? Or taken your phone?”
Miles laughed. “We have a total open phone policy. It’s how it’s done today to create a healthy relationship.
” He blinked and smiled. “We also go on phone diets, but she has to be on hers since that’s her job, so I get it.
” He took his hands back and looked at the ground as his brow came together.
“There was a time we fought about Ryder, actually,” he squeezed his eyes, “and she wouldn’t let me leave, then said I’d have to move her from the door, but if I touched her, she’d call the cops and tell them I hit her. ”
“Oh my God.” It was the first time Lena didn’t sound enraged.
I sat back in the chair so hard that the front legs lifted off the ground. Holy fucking shit. That was… She was… Holy FUCK. The back of my neck burned just as hot as my face. My jaw flapped, trying to find words.
The only ones I found were, “Holy crap, man. That’s beyond messed up.”
“Miles, honey…” His mom rubbed his arm. “Would she be angry if she knew we were talking about this?”