Chapter 24
MILES
With every unanswered text and call that went directly to voicemail, Miles’s despair deepened. He kept the note folded in his pocket the next day, pulling it out at random intervals to check if there had been some secret meaning he’d missed the first few times.
There wasn’t.
It didn’t matter how often he ran his eyes over Zach’s slanted, uneven letters that showed he’d scribbled the message in a hurry, how carefully he brushed his thumbs over the depressions in the paper or analyzed the curves of the capital M.
The end result was the same. Painful, crushing disappointment that made it impossible to exhale without breaking into a sob.
What the hell had happened at the party? With no one to explain, all he could do was guess that something had spurred Zach to tell his mom the truth, and her reaction had been bad enough to force Zach to flee.
That part made sense. Both of them knew better than to expect anything different.
What didn’t make sense was Zach cutting him off.
Zach had written that he didn’t want Miles to wreck his life, and he could see why Zach wanted to spare him the same pain that drove him away.
But in trying to protect him, Zach had only caused more damage.
Didn’t he realize that losing him would break Miles long before anything else ever could?
Miles tried to pretend nothing was wrong, going through the motions for the next few days, burying himself in the harvest, and collapsing into bed each night.
“You’ve been quiet, hon,” his mom said to him one evening, coming into his room with a mug of tea as he was getting ready for bed.
She felt his forehead and frowned. “You’re a little warm, and you haven’t been eating much.
Hope you didn’t catch something off one of the neighbors. Here, I made you some ginger tea.”
Miles shrugged and accepted the cup, dutifully taking a sip. He knew better, though he wouldn’t say it. It wasn’t a cold or the flu, and it wasn’t anything a hot drink could fix.
He’d lost Zach, and his body couldn’t handle it.
“Maybe you should sleep in tomorrow,” she added. “Your dad will understand if you’re not feeling well.”
Miles resisted the urge to laugh out loud.
His father would sooner buy an alpaca than accept that Miles wasn’t willing to put in a day’s work because he wasn’t feeling well.
That man was back to manual labor forty-eight hours after his appendectomy.
Which he probably wouldn’t have even gotten if Miles’s mom hadn’t insisted on driving him to the nearest urgent care after realizing that his occasional grunts meant he’d been in a ridiculous amount of pain.
“I’m fine,” he reassured his mom, giving her a kiss goodnight. Moments after she left the room, Max limped in, knocking over Miles’s suitcase with his crutch.
“Still haven’t unpacked?” he joked, plopping down on the bed. “You college kids are so lazy.”
“Shut up,” Miles grumbled. No, he hadn’t unpacked. The few shirts at the bottom of the suitcase were a reminder of Zach, of the brief time they’d had together in Portland, away from the rest of the world. Not that he needed the reminder.
Everything made him think of Zach.
And so far, he’d carried it alone. Max had tried to catch him after dinner a few times, but Miles made excuses and slipped away. He wasn’t ready to talk about it.
He didn’t know what to say.
But Max wasn’t giving him a choice this time.
“What’s going on?” he asked, eyeing Miles with a mixture of sympathy and pity. “What happened with Zach? Did y’all have a fight?”
Miles opened his mouth, then closed it. “No,” he finally said. “We didn’t have a fight.” Walking over to his jeans, he fished out the wrinkled note and handed it to Max. After reading it, Max gently folded it back up and set it on the nightstand.
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah,” Miles agreed. “I’ve been texting and calling him, but he’s not responding to anything. I’m worried he never will.”
Max shrugged. “That’s his choice. He’s allowed to make it.”
His nonchalance wounded Miles. Shouldn’t his brother have been more understanding? Walking around the bed, he snatched the note off the stand and shoved it into his suitcase, next to the horseshoe. The cool metal burned him with the force of memories.
“Whatever,” Miles mumbled. “It would have been nice if he’d talked to me about it first.”
“To what end?” Max asked. “It’s not like you had any kind of future. Judging by what he says in the note, he never planned on coming back to the farm and staying in the closet for you.”
“The fuck? Why would you assume that I would ever ask him to? I love him,” Miles hissed, boiling with sudden rage. “I had a whole plan—I’d come out to our parents at the end of the summer, finish up college, and move to Portland to be with Zach. I would never, never ask him to lie about who he is.”
Max flinched as if Miles had slapped him. “Are you insane? Were you expecting to sit down with Mom and Dad and have a nice little conversation about how you’re gay and then go about your life?”
“Yeah.” Miles raised his voice. “That’s exactly what I planned on doing.”
Max shook his head. “No. Nuh-uh. They’d never accept it.”
“Guess what?” Stalking toward the bed, Miles lowered his voice.
“I don’t give a shit. I need Zach more than I need them.
” He paused, wondering why his brother was being so argumentative.
He’d expected Max to relate, to understand, to have words of wisdom.
Not this…blind complacency. “Aren’t you and Ray ever going to—”
“No!” Max almost shouted and hopped up, wincing when he landed on his bad leg. “Look, I’m sorry about Zach. Good night.” He rushed out of the room, leaving Miles confused about what the fuck his brother’s priorities were.
* * *
A week passed, and nothing had changed. After another exhausting day, Miles was ready to be done with dinner so he could be alone.
All he wanted was to take a long, cold shower, then spend another night tossing and turning, thoughts of Zach keeping him awake.
He ate slowly, appetite gone, half-heartedly listening to the twins take turns quizzing Mara about high school.
“I talked to Evelyn today,” his mom said quietly to his dad. Miles perked up at the mention of Zach’s mom but didn’t let it show.
“Everything alright over at their place?” Anthony asked.
“Yes, the harvest is coming along.” Her gaze flitted to Miles for a moment, stirring an uncomfortable tightness in his throat.
To pretend he wasn’t listening, he shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and almost choked at her next words.
“She told me why Zach took off so quick during the barbecue.”
“I thought he had classes. Isn’t that why he left?
” Mara asked, seamlessly inserting the rest of the table into the discussion.
Miles wanted to hug her for forcing it into the open.
He couldn’t have done it—not with his feelings stretched to their breaking point like an overtightened guitar string about to snap—but he was desperate for any crumb of information.
“That’s what I figured, but Evelyn shared something…else.” His mom hesitated, giving Miles a concerned smile. “Sweetie, I don’t want you getting upset.”
He shrugged. “Why would I?”
“It’s only that…Zach told her he was—” She dipped her voice. “—gay.”
“What?” his dad barked, loud enough to rattle the glasses. “That’s plain ridiculous.”
Mara didn’t miss a beat. “Why is it ridiculous? He’s allowed to be gay.”
“Mara, quit talking nonsense!” Anthony snapped at her before facing Miles, eyes narrowed, voice dangerously low. “Son, did you know about this?”
Miles opened his mouth, fifty different responses on the tip of his tongue, when his mom interrupted. “Of course he didn’t!”
Silence settled over the table. Miles glanced at Mara, who winked at him and speared some salad on her fork, completely unflappable.
She was the only one in their family with the nerves of steel to mouth off to their dad and keep eating.
She’d make a great lawyer one day. Or a lion tamer.
Really, she’d excel at any job where she had to keep cool under pressure.
His gaze moved to Max, whose panicked eyes were wide with fear.
Miles didn’t blame him for keeping quiet.
Not one bit. He’d had some time to think since their conversation, and he realized that their circumstances were far too different to compare.
Max was the eldest son, the heir. This farm was his livelihood.
He couldn’t just announce his relationship with Ray and escape to another state. He had a lot more to lose.
Besides, Miles didn’t need his brother to help him fight his battles.
He could do it on his own.
And he would.
Zach may have left him behind with that misplaced self-sacrifice, but as much as Miles hated it, he also understood it.
Zach needed safety. He needed to put himself first. Miles didn’t have the same history or the same need for self-preservation.
Even if it changed nothing—if Zach never knew about it—Miles would never leave him behind. Would never deny him.
He would love Zach forever, and that love wasn’t conditional on Zach loving him back.
He inhaled deeply, a surge of bravery filling him as he looked straight into his mother’s eyes.
“I knew. Of course I knew.”
“And you visited him anyway?” She blinked in confusion, struggling to wrap her head around his admission. “You weren’t worried?”
“Worried?” He scratched his chin, pretending to think. “Yeah, I was worried. Worried about my best friend dealing with assholes who don’t get it.”
“Language!”
His dad slammed a fist on the table, but Miles ignored him.