Concealed Hearts (Hometown Jasper #4) - Nicky James Page 0,66

reject me. He’d be disappointed. Ashamed.

I’d never given him a chance.

The years had passed, and I’d shied away from who I was. Lying. Denying. Deceiving.

Then Shay had come out and shattered all those preconceived notions I’d carried for years.

Mom and Dad had embraced him, loved him, accepted him.

And what had I done? I’d hid anyhow, convinced it was too late for me. What was done was done. And I kept right on doing it even when my family knew the truth.

Mom rushed forward when I exited the car. We embraced for a long time, rocking side to side in the driveway. She was a good mom, and I hated myself for perpetuating lies they already knew were lies, refusing to acknowledge the truth. I was a coward. There was no other explanation.

“I’m so happy you’re home.”

She acted like we hadn’t seen each other in years instead of a handful of weeks.

“It’s good to see you too.”

She released me, and Dad shook my hand. He was less affectionate, but the swell of pride on his face couldn’t be missed. He was a man I’d looked up to my whole life. A man who’d inspired me to work hard and set my goals high.

“Hey, Dad.”

“No running away this time.” He shook his finger in my face. “We are family.”

I gritted my teeth but smiled. “No running. I promise.”

“How was your drive?” Mom asked, looping her arm with mine and guiding me into the house.

“It was fine. Is Shay coming for dinner?” I’d been curious how soon they’d throw us back in the same room.

“Yes.” Dad exchanged a look with Mom and kept going. “As is Josiah.”

I suppressed a groan. Part of me knew this would happen. “They’re still together?”

“Josiah is a good, good boy.” Mom rubbed my arm. “Such a nice boy. You two need to stop fighting. Why can’t you be friends again?”

If they only knew the whole story—or maybe they did. Who was I fooling?

“We’ll be fine.”

The tiny house where I’d grown up hadn’t changed in over twenty years. It was still sparsely decorated with only a few valuable yet significant pieces of furniture. The balance between tradition and contemporary design was precise. The walls were hung with cultural art my parents had purchased overseas. They were perfectly balanced and distributed to give the room a sense of symmetry, adding harmony and a sense of beauty to the room. Mom’s ever-growing collection of house plants added a splash of nature. A thick scent of spices from Mom’s cooking hung in the air, and I inhaled, closing my eyes. It smelled like home.

I’d shared a room with Shay growing up, which was awkward since there was such a huge age difference between us. No teenager wants their kid brother in their space all the time. Shay had worshiped the ground I walked on until not that long ago. He’d developed a misplaced sense of hero-worship I’d never felt entitled to. Our relationship was fractured, and I wasn’t sure if I could mend it without admitting I’d made mistakes in the past.

It sounded easy, but it wasn’t.

Josiah was a whole other story. Since he and Shay were dating, it put me in a uniquely awkward position, especially knowing they were coming for supper.

“Dinner smells good, Mom.”

“Oh, I must check it. Visit with your dad.”

Knowing Mom, she’d made a vast array of dishes. Nothing was ever simple with her. She cooked to please, and with so many people, it meant tons of food. There would likely be various meats, rice and noodle dishes, fish, and fried vegetables, among several other things.

“Come, let’s have a drink before your brother arrives. Tell me about your work.”

I smiled and joined Dad in the front room. He enjoyed our time together, especially our long talks surrounding my studies. It was always “Tell me about your work” whenever we got together. Although Dad was more of a computer and technology guy, he followed along well when I spoke of my experiments and research, asking questions when he required more information.

With tiny glasses of Dad’s traditional baijiu—a cultural drink he shared only on a rare occasion with special company—we sat together in two high back chairs by an unlit fireplace. My homecoming must have qualified as rare and special.

Dad held his glass high, the light reflecting off the clear liquid, a beaming smile on his face. “To my son. I hope you coming home is a sign of you finding peace in Jasper. Your heart needs to settle now.