27. Chapter Twenty-Six #2
There was a part of her family I valued more than anything. And wasn’t I already staying away from Brady so she could have him?
“Fine,” I said, motioning toward the couch. “Have a seat.”
Elizabeth stepped in tentatively, her eyes flicking nervously toward Aunt Lu. She looked terrible—grief-stricken, hollow. But I supposed I would too if I’d just lost my husband.
Aunt Lu and I waited. She was the one who’d called this little meeting, after all.
“Well,” she began, voice brittle, “you’ll be happy to know that Brady and Benjamin are refusing to speak to me. Neither of them plans to attend their daddy’s funeral because—”
“Why would that make me happy?” I cut in.
She blinked, caught off guard. “Isn’t that what you want? For Brady to leave his family for you?”
I leaned forward, voice low but firm. “Unlike you, I’ve never given Brady an ultimatum. Neither of us ever wanted to choose between each other and our families.”
She flinched. She didn’t like that. But I wasn’t about to let her twist the truth or pin this on me.
Elizabeth refused to acknowledge any wrongdoing.
“Well, regardless,” she said stiffly, “Brady and Benjamin won’t have anything to do with our family unless you’re part of it.”
I blinked. “So, you’re here to ask me to be part of your family?” The words tasted absurd coming out of my mouth.
“I suppose I am,” she said without a trace of warmth in her voice.
I shook my head, stunned. “Why would I want that? After everything you’ve put Brady and me through all these years?”
“I did what I thought was best for my family.”
“No,” I said, voice steady. “You did what was best for yourself. ”
Her eyes narrowed. “Young lady, where do you get off talking to me like that?”
I didn’t flinch. “Elizabeth, if you really want to save your family—and if I’m somehow the key to that—then the least you owe me is the truth.”
I turned to Aunt Lu, who hadn’t said a word but whose presence was a force beside me. “You owe us both the truth.”
She stood and headed for the door—just as I expected. She didn’t care about saving her family. She cared about saving face.
But then, in the foyer, she paused.
To my surprise, she turned around and walked back toward the couch she’d just vacated. She sat down slowly, her posture less rigid, her expression less guarded.
Aunt Lu and I exchanged a glance. Neither of us saw that coming.
Elizabeth looked smaller now. Weaker. Her eyes flicked between us, and then she spoke.
“Fine,” she said. “You want the truth? Here it is.”
She took a breath, her voice low and bitter.
“Imagine having a husband who loves someone else. And the only thing he truly loves about you are the sons you gave him.”
She turned her gaze to Aunt Lu, eyes full of disdain.
“Now, imagine one of those sons falling in love with the child of the woman your husband loves.”
I held onto my aunt’s hand. She squeezed tightly, her grip ironclad. I wondered what it felt like—to hear, after all these years, that Isaac had loved her. That he’d always loved her.
Elizabeth wasn’t finished.
“And not only does he love her,” she said bitterly, “but he wanted to marry her. Before he even went to college.”
I blinked. “How did you know that?” I couldn’t imagine Brady announcing that to his mother.
Elizabeth scoffed. “Don’t you think I knew why he was working so hard that summer at Dillon’s farm? We didn’t want him working, but he insisted—said he needed the money.” She paused, her voice thick with resentment. “Then I found the ring. In his sock drawer.”
My heart stopped.
“What ring?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t play stupid with me. The ring you sent back with all of his things.”
Oh, my gosh. So that was what had been in the burgundy box all of these years. I remembered that summer, and how tired he was from baling hay, but he was so happy. Now, I knew why. I wanted to run up and look at it, but I couldn’t leave my aunt alone with her.
“I never opened the box,” I whispered.
My reaction surprised her. And my aunt.
Aunt Lu’s eyes widened slightly, and I realized—she knew about the ring, too. Of course she did.
It hit me like a flash. She was the one who’d gone through my hope chest. The information she’d told Brady she’d come across—it was the ring.
Elizabeth pressed on, her voice cold and matter-of-fact.
“Well,” she said, “I knew I had to put a stop to it. He was too young. And I couldn’t have him tied to your family. So, I told him you were seeing someone else.”
I stared at her, stunned.
“It was you! ” I gasped. The betrayal burned through me.
“Why would you do that?” I demanded. “What did I ever do to you?”
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, her expression twisted with resentment.
“It’s not so much what you did, ” she said. “It’s who you are. ”
She might as well have slapped me.
“You’re so perfectly beautiful and talented,” she continued, gesturing toward my aunt. “Just like her. ”
Aunt Lu sat stoically, unmoved.
“I saw the way Isaac looked at you growing up,” Elizabeth said, voice rising. “And recently. Yes, he despised you, too—but only because you reminded him of what he really wanted.” Her eyes narrowed. “But in the end, you won him over, didn’t you?”
I wanted to say, Bitter much? But honestly, part of me felt sorry for her.
Don’t get me wrong—I still couldn’t stand her lying, manipulative self. But I didn’t envy her. Not one bit.
Aunt Lu, who had sat quietly with grace and dignity, finally spoke. “Elizabeth,” she said, “if Isaac loved me . . . why? ”
We all knew what Aunt Lu was really asking.
Why had Isaac cheated on her? Why had he told her she’d ruined everything? Why the lifetime of hate?
Elizabeth didn’t answer right away. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t.
But then, maybe realizing she had nothing left to lose, she turned to face my aunt.
“You had everything,” she said quietly. “And you could’ve had anybody you wanted.”
Aunt Lu’s voice was steady but sad. So, so sad. “I only wanted Isaac.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with something sharp and broken.
“He only wanted you, too,” she said. “He cried when he found out I was pregnant.” She paused, her voice cracking. “I was his drunken mistake.”
“Isaac never drank when we were together,” Aunt Lu said, her voice laced with confusion.
Elizabeth sighed and reluctantly answered, “He was drinking because he thought you were going to break off your engagement.”
Aunt Lu’s eyes widened. We didn’t need to ask who had planted that lie.
Her chin dropped to her chest, shoulders folding inward. “I was your friend, Elizabeth,” she whispered.
And just like that, she had her answer. A terrible, soul-crushing answer.
Years of pain. Years of silence. All born from a lie.
I looked at the woman who had started it all. The root of so much heartbreak. Did she regret it? She had to. She certainly hadn’t gotten the life I imagine she thought those lies would give her.
Elizabeth didn’t respond to Aunt Lu. Instead, she turned and looked directly at me. “Despite what you may think,” she said, “I love my sons. They’re all I’ve ever had. I want Brady to be happy. And as much as I don’t like it, you’re what makes him happy.”
She paused, her voice low.
“I won’t stand in the way of that happiness.”
And just like that, she stood and began to walk out.
“Elizabeth,” I called after her.
She stopped.
“If you ever try to again . . . I won’t be the loser.”
She looked at me—hard. But didn’t say a word.
She knew.
She left.
Aunt Lu and I both exhaled, the tension finally breaking. We sat there, stunned by everything that had just unfolded.
I reached for her hands, hoping to offer some comfort. “His last thoughts were of you. He wanted me to tell you he was sorry and that he loved you.”
Aunt Lu rarely cried. But her eyes filled with tears. She cupped my cheeks in her hands, her voice trembling. “Ella Lu,” she said, “go to Brady now. And don’t let anything come between you.”
She didn’t need to tell me twice.
I kissed Aunt Lu’s cheek and bolted upstairs, straight to my nightstand.
I opened the little burgundy box.
Inside sat a delicate round solitaire diamond ring. Smaller than the one I wore now. But somehow, I think I loved it more.
I carefully lifted it out and placed it atop the shiny new engagement ring—two promises, ten years apart, finally side by side.
Then I noticed something tucked beneath where the ring had been. A folded piece of paper.
I pulled it free and unfolded it, hands trembling.
Dear Ellie,
I’ve hated these last few months apart. If ever you want me back, I’m yours.
We can run away together and get married.
Somewhere no one knows or cares about our last names.
All you have to do is wear this ring, and I’ll know.
I’ll look every day to see if you’ve changed your mind. I’ll always love you.
Brady
I could barely see through the tears.
He must have written it when I sent his things back. Why hadn’t I been brave enough to open the box back then?
It didn’t matter now.
All that mattered was our future.
I grabbed my purse, my shoes, and the note. Both rings securely in place.
And I sped to Brady’s house—ready to rewrite everything.
I pulled into his driveway and spotted his truck. My heart leaped. He was home.
I got out and heard the rhythmic thud of wood being chopped. I followed the sound around back.
And there he was.
My country boy. Chopping wood like it had personally offended him and was the reason for all the pain. Jeans, tight t-shirt, sweat glistening despite the cold.
He looked so good, I almost didn’t want to interrupt him.
But as he reached for the next log, I called out.
“Brady Jackson.”
He looked up and smiled—that smile I loved more than anything.
He dropped the ax into the stump and ran to me.
I met him halfway.
He picked me up and held me tight, repeating my name like a prayer.
“Ellie,” he said over and over, kissing every inch of my face and neck. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
“I love you,” I whispered back. “So much.”
When he finally set me down, I pulled out the note—the one he’d written so long ago—and the ring.
“Did you mean what you wrote?” I asked, voice trembling. “Do you still want to run away and marry me?”
He looked at me, eyes shining, and grinned.
“Let’s go.”
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him once, soft and sure.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
We ran to Birmingham and caught the first flight to Vegas—the only place open on Christmas Day. After everything we’d been through, we weren’t going to let anything else stand in our way. Sure, we knew there’d be hell to pay for eloping. But we didn’t care. We’d waited long enough.
So, there we were—me in my Auburn sweatshirt, him in his Alabama t-shirt—breaking all the rules.
And finally, finally . . . choosing each other.