Chapter 4
DEX
Sunday morning found me in the garage, staring at an oil change that should have taken twenty minutes. I’d been looking at the same car for an hour. Seeing nothing but an inescapable existence of sitting on the sidelines.
All I could see was her face when I walked through that door yesterday.
The shock. The horror. The absolute fury.
And underneath it all, the hurt.
I deserved the anger. Deserved worse. But the hurt gutted me. Because I’d treated her exactly the way she was afraid of being treated. I’d proved her worst fear to be true.
My phone buzzed. The group chat. I almost ignored it, but that would make things worse. They already knew there was something going on with me, withdrawing further would only make them force the truth out of me.
Trace: Family dinner Friday night. Our place. 6pm. Leigh will be there.
Booker: I’ll bring the steaks
Xander: Blake’s making dessert. Her words: “experimental”
Gage: Billie and I will be there. Maybe we’ll bring a second dessert. I remember Blake’s last culinary experiment.
The messages kept coming, but I couldn’t look away from Trace’s message.
Leigh will be there.
Of course she would be. She was part of the family now. Part of every gathering, every dinner, every celebration.
And so was I.
Which meant there was no escape.
Trace: Dex. You coming?
I stared at my phone. Three little dots appeared and disappeared as Trace typed, deleted, typed again.
Trace: This isn’t optional. You’ve been avoiding us for months.
Xander: If you’re not there, I’m coming to get you. And I’m bringing Booker.
Gage: We all are. You’re not getting out of this one.
Booker: Just show up.
I could see them doing it. All four of them showing up at my garage or my house, refusing to leave until I talked to them.
I would have done it for them. We’d always been there for each other, they’d just needed me more than I’d needed them.
But that didn’t mean they didn’t care. It didn’t mean they wouldn’t show up.
Dex: Fine. I’ll be there.
Trace: Good. It’ll be good to have everyone together. Dad seems different with her around. More relaxed. I think this is going to be good for all of us.
Everyone. Including her.
I set the phone down and tried to focus on the oil change. Failed spectacularly.
The sound of a car pulling up made me look up. Xander’s SUV.
Of course. If there was anyone who wouldn’t be convinced I’d do as I said, it was Xander. He knew what it was like to retreat from everyone you loved, to fall down in a well of loneliness you couldn’t escape.
He got out, hands in his pockets, and walked into the garage with that easy confidence he’d only found in the last couple of years. Sobriety looked good on him. Made him steadier, more centered.
Made him harder to lie to. He knew the signs too well now.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
He looked at the car, then at me. “How long have you been staring at that oil pan?”
“I was thinking,” I said, dodging the question.
“About Leigh?”
I flinched. “Xan, I don’t want to do this.”
“I know you don’t. That’s why I’m here.” He leaned against the workbench. “We talked yesterday. At the farm. But that was about her. This is about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” His voice was gentle but firm. “And you haven’t been for months. Long before Leigh showed up.”
I turned away, focusing on draining the oil. “I said I’m fine.”
“Dex, you’re my best friend. I’ve known you for over twenty years. You think I don’t see you pulling away? Skipping dinners, making excuses, showing up late and leaving early?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Bullshit.” There was no heat in it, just certainty. “Talk to me. Please.”
I kept my hands busy, my back to him. This needed to happen. I couldn’t avoid it any more. But there was no way I could get through this if I had to look at him while I did.
“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?” The words came out rough. “Like you’re there but not really there?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Every single day for the first year I was sober. Still some days now.”
“But you’re their brother. Really their brother. Blood.”
Silence. Then, “Is that what this is about? You think you don’t count because you’re not blood?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
“Dex, look at me.”
I didn’t want to, but I turned around.
Xander’s face was serious, his eyes sharp.
“You are our brother. In every way that matters. You think Trace doesn’t consider you family?
Booker? Me? Gage? Every significant moment in our lives happened when you were there.
You saved us. You showed us how to be brothers when all we knew was how to be ignored.
There would never have been the Farrington brothers without you. You were always meant to be one of us.”
“But I’m not really, though. Am I?” The words I’d been holding back for months spilled out. “I’m the friend. The one who’s always there. But when it comes down to it, when you all talk about family, about the Farringtons, I’m not one of you. I’m adjacent to it. Close to it. But not in it.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” I laughed, bitter. “Leigh shows up, and suddenly there’s another sibling. Blood. Real family. And I’m still just Dex. Good old Dex who helps out and shows up and supports everyone. But I’m not a Farrington. I never will be.”
Xander was quiet for a long moment. “Is that why you’ve been pulling away? Because you think we don’t consider you family?”
“I don’t know what I think anymore.” I rubbed my face, exhausted.
“I just know that I watch you all with your partners, your kids, your lives, and I’m still here.
Running my grandparents’ garage. Living in their house.
Nothing in my life is mine. I didn’t choose any of it.
And everyone else is moving forward, building something, and I’m just.. . maintaining.”
“You’re lonely.”
The word hit like a punch because it was so true and yet it didn’t feel like enough to describe what I was going through.
“Yeah. I’m lonely. And I hate that I am, because I have you guys. I have this family. I should be grateful. I should be happy for you all. And I am. I am happy for you. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling like I’m drowning while everyone celebrates.”
“Dex…”
“And the worst part?” I couldn’t stop now. Now that I’d finally loosened my grip on the pain, it was pouring out of me. “The worst part is that I resent you for it. Not for being happy. But for not noticing. For assuming I’m fine because I’ve always been fine. For not seeing that I’m disappearing.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“I’m sorry,” Xander said finally, his voice rough. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re right. We didn’t notice. Or we noticed but didn’t push because you kept saying you were fine. And we believed you because it was easier than seeing that you weren’t.”
I looked away. “It’s not your fault.”
My go-to reaction now was to walk away. To hide the pain and deal with it alone. Except that hadn’t been working. It might even be making it worse. But how do you stand in front of some you called your best friend, your brother, and face telling him that his happiness was making you miserable.
“It is, though. At least partly.” He moved closer. “You’re family, Dex. Not because of blood, but because you chose us and we chose you. That’s real family. That’s what counts. And if we made you feel like you were less than that, like you were just ‘the friend,’ then we fucked up. Badly.”
“I don’t know how to be around you all anymore,” I admitted. “I don’t know how to watch you be happy without feeling like I’m failing. And I hate that I feel that way. Because it’s not your fault. You’re not doing anything wrong. If anything, it’s me. I’m the problem.”
“You will never be the problem, Dex. Let us help you. Stop pulling away. Let us in.” He paused. “And maybe it’s time you built something for yourself. Something that’s yours, not your grandparents’. Not because you inherited it, but because you chose it.”
“I don’t even know what that would be.”
“Then figure it out. We’ll help. But you have to stop disappearing on us first.” He studied me.
“And Leigh... whatever happened there, whatever is making things awkward, you need to figure that out too. Because she’s going to be around.
She’s family now. And so are you. Which means you both have to find a way to exist in the same space. ”
My stomach twisted. “I know.”
“Do you want to tell me what actually happened?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He didn’t push, which made it worse somehow. “But Dex? Whatever it is, it’s eating you alive. And you can’t keep carrying this alone. You don’t have to carry this alone. It’s probably not even as bad as you think it is.”
After he left, I stood in the empty garage, his words echoing in my head.
“You’re family. Not because of blood, but because you chose us and we chose you.”
I wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe I belonged, that I mattered, that I was more than just the reliable friend who showed up.
But all I could think about was Friday. Facing her again. Pretending everything was normal while remembering the way she’d felt in my arms, the sounds she’d made, the connection that had felt so real. The screaming need to do it all again.
Pretending I didn’t want her when every cell in my body demanded otherwise.
I locked up the garage and drove home. The empty house greeted me like always. My grandparents’ furniture. My father’s books. Ghosts and memories and nothing that was truly mine.
Xander was right. I needed to build something. Choose something. Be something other than the guy who maintained other people’s dreams.
But first, I had to survive Friday night.
I sat in the dark living room and let myself feel all of it. The loneliness, the longing, the fear that I’d never figure out how to belong anywhere.
And underneath it all, the bone-deep want for a woman I could never have.
Three days.
Then I’d see her again. See them all. Try to pretend I was fine.
Try to ignore the way my chest tightened every time I thought about her.
Try to be the Dex they all expected. Reliable. Steady. Always there.
Even if I was slowly disappearing.
I pressed my head back against the couch and closed my eyes.
“You can do this,” I whispered to the darkness.
But I wasn’t sure I believed it.