Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Atlas
Two days.
We spend two whole days in our place .
. . bonding. That’s how Blythe likes to describe it.
Me? I called it fucking like rabbits.
She didn’t love that phrasing.
Can she blame me, though?
I’ve been holding back since the first time I wanted to kiss her, touch her, make her mine.
And now?
Now, I can’t get enough.
But right now, she’s out with her friends, and I’m at the shop.
We’ve got plans for the parlor, and—yeah.
This isn’t a two-year challenge anymore.
This is my life now.
A life I want to share with her.
Which is why I finally posted the announcement—this is where people can find me now.
Clients, artists, anyone looking for me.
No more bouncing between shops, no more couch surfing or renting a place for the season.
I’m done with that lifestyle.
The one where I don’t give two fucks if I belong, where I just exist.
And speaking of making things permanent—my lawyer is already looking into changing Blythe’s name.
She doesn’t have to marry me to become Blythe Timberbridge .
. . but I plan on proposing anyway.
I want her forever. Her, our daughter .
. . maybe a couple of more kids that will start our family.
I’m sketching out a design for tomorrow’s client when a knock sounds at the shop door.
I expect Malerick. He tried to swing by yesterday, but I told him—politely—to fuck off.
I was with my woman.
But when I look up and see Ledger standing behind the glass, I go still.
I was not expecting him.
I set my pencil down and push to my feet, unlocking the door with zero hesitation.
I swing it open. “What the fuck do you want?”
He exhales, hands shoved in his pockets.
“I had no idea?—”
I cut him off.
“Listen, I’ve got shit to do. This town is big enough for us to exist without getting in each other’s way.” My voice is clipped.
I don’t have room for this conversation.
I’m too happy to fucking deal with a past that will always be broken and a blood relative who will always hate my guts.
“Blythe and Galeana can have their little reunions, but I’m not pretending I’m part of your brotherhood. So, if you’re worried about me crashing your next holiday, don’t worry. It will never happen.”
“But you are,” he says.
“You’re my brother.”
I cross my arms, jaw flexing.
What the fuck is he getting at?
Ledger lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Our parents never taught us to be a family,” he says.
“None of us were close while growing up. And the way we treated you—” He stops, looking away before shaking his head.
“We were just kids. We didn’t know any better. And when we got older . . . we should have. But how could we? We had no example to follow.”
I don’t say anything because this is the last thing I expected him to say.
“She tried,” he continues, voice lower now.
“Mom tried to bring us together, to fix what was broken, but we were too old, too jaded. Too far gone. She should’ve done better while we were growing up.”
“She regretted the way she handled everything,” I tell him.
“Staying with our father because she was afraid of losing what little respect she had in this town. She had too much power, and they would try to strip it from her if she were some single woman. Therese believed being with that lowlife kept her safe.”
Ledger scoffs.
“Crazy that you know more about her than any of us ever did.” He lets out another breath.
“Thank you for being there for her when we couldn’t.” He hesitates, then shakes his head.
“I resented her. For years. She let him hurt us just so she wouldn’t get hurt.”
I shake my head.
They really don’t know.
“He didn’t hit her,” I confide what I know, what I saw.
“But he abused her in other ways. He had this sick way of reminding her that she belonged to him. That no matter how much power she thought she had, he could take whatever she had because he owned her.”
Ledger swallows hard, his throat working.
He looks away, blinking like he’s trying to make sense of something too big to process.
I don’t know if he’ll ever fully understand.
But I do.
Because I lived it.
I saw the way he ripped her clothes, the way his rage twisted into something cruel, something meant to break her down piece by piece.
I saw the moment her strength cracked when her voice dropped into something pleading, something desperate.
I left before I could see her cry.
Before I could watch her beg.
Ledger shifts on his feet, his jaw tight.
“The point of this visit is . . . I know I’ve been a dick since day one, but I want us—not just the family, but you and me—to be closer. To really be brothers. I know it’s a long shot, but if you could find it in you to . . .”
He trails off, waiting for something I should probably deny him.
It’d be easy. Too easy.
I could tell him to fuck off.
Tell him I don’t owe him shit.
That the past is too far gone, that I rebuilt from the damage he helped create, and I don’t need to go back.
But instead, I say, “Okay.”
I do it for Therese, who wanted the five of us to be a family, even when she couldn’t see it when she was alive.
For Blythe, and the kids we’ll have one day, who deserve a family that isn’t broken beyond repair.
And maybe—maybe for the six-year-old boy who lost his mom and came here hoping for something more than the fucked-up life he got instead.
They broke me.
But I rebuilt myself.
And this version of me—the man I fought to become—can try, even if it means letting this asshole in.
Ledger exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I . . . never thanked you. For saving me. All those times I had tournaments, and the old man tried to fuck up my hockey career.”
I shrug as if saying it doesn’t matter.
“It couldn’t have been easy,” he says, watching me.
“You might think I did it to help you,” I mutter.
“But selfishly, I was making sure you got the hell out. So I could have a little peace.”
The words come quick, automatic—the lie I told myself for years.
But the second they leave my mouth, I feel it.
The truth.
The real reason I stepped in was because deep down I hoped to win a brother.
I was hoping for some kind of respect.
Also, tomake sure his dream didn’t die under my father’s twisted hands.
Because no matter how much I hated Ledger, I hated him less than I hated seeing someone else’s dream get destroyed.
And that’s one of the reasons when I was recruited to be a part of the organization I accepted.
I wanted to save people like my brothers, like Therese.
My current therapist claims I like to fix people and their lives while trying to ignore my own problems, my own traumas.
Except, the moment Blythe stepped into my life, that’s all I’ve been wanting to do: deal with my past so that I can have a life.
I just didn’t know exactly why—now I know it was so I could offer Blythe something.
So I could learn how to love her.
“We’re cool,” I tell him.
“I’m not saying things between us will get fixed immediately, but we can work on it.”
“I . . . thank you for considering it," he says, hesitation thick in his voice. It drags a chuckle out of me.
"Was the mean hockey player afraid I’d tell him to fuck off? Or that I’ll punch him in the face?”
Ledger places his hands on the back of his neck and stretches, his mouth pulling into something almost self-deprecating.
“After everything I did? I figured you’d break my nose—maybe worse. Malerick said you’ve got mean skills. Apparently, you can take me down in less than two moves if I piss you off.”
I grin.
“And don’t you forget it.”
His smirk fades slightly.
“Again, thank you. For being there for Mom. And . . .” He exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“I get it now. Why she left you part of her inheritance. You were hers, too.”
The words hit like a punch to the ribs, pushing all the air out of my lungs.
Therese told me that once—maybe twice while she was in hospice.
But hearing it from him .
. . from one of her sons .
. .
It feels different.
She did love me. In the only way she could.
Even when she was too shattered to show it the way a mother should.
I swallow hard, my throat tightening, but I don’t look away.
This is the first time Ledger isn’t looking at me like I’m an outsider.
And today I do believe I belong that I’m part of the Timberbridge brothers.