dad. They speak near a pond where pink rose petals float across the water.
Really looking at my strict, hardass dad stops me in my tracks.
My nose flares.
I was twelve the night my brother died. Twelve the night that my gutted, grief-ridden dad looked me in the eye with this dark hollowness and said, “You’re the dispensable one. It should’ve been you.”
It hurt to hear when I was a kid.
But as an adult, looking back—for my dad to tell his twelve-year-old son that he wished he died over his fifteen-year-old…it’s unthinkable to me. I’d never do that to someone, let alone a kid.
Sucks for him, I’m still alive.
And I’m not planning on going anywhere.
My dad laughs at something Akara says, and Akara smiles back, a hand to my dad’s shoulder who laughs more. Looks like they’re already hitting it off.
Good.
I only ever told Sulli and Akara half the story about what my dad said. Because I genuinely want good things for Kitsuwon Securities, for my best friend, and I’m not sure what Akara would do if he knew my dad told me I should’ve been the one to die.
I take in the reception around me.
Smiling faces. Dancing bodies, and I’ve always felt like air. Able to go anywhere, but I feel in limbo. Purgatory.
Stuck.
But my lip curves, seeing my brother twirl Jane towards the dance floor. His happiness tries to lift me. Maybe if I lose Sulli, it’ll be enough just to be happy for him.
Who am I kidding?
I’ll be devastated if I can’t be with her.
I shove my hands in my blue cargo jacket.
Uncle Joe comes up next to me. Besides me and Thatcher, he’s the only other person to reach six-seven here. A hand to my shoulder, his hoarse voice is nothing but kind as he says, “Whadda you doin’ here all alone, huh?”
“Moping, I guess.” I sigh, trying to look anywhere but at the happy couples. Goddammit, there are so many. Weddings.
Uncle Joe squeezes my shoulder. “You’re here. Family’s all together now. Fuhgeddabout the rest.”
I nod.
“Come, let’s have a drink.”
Having a lot of love for my uncle, I always do what he says. And I forget about the rest. For now, at least. Following him to the bar, we cheers over glasses of whiskey on ice. I smile, and after he’s caught in another conversation, I spot Farrow near a frozen ice sculpture of a lion.
I excuse myself and jog over to the neck-tattooed maverick. “Hey,” I nod.
He’s digging in a diaper bag, a strand of bleach-white hair in his eyes. His pierced brows lift to me, but his hands keep moving. “Nice to see you made it here. Jane thought you might get lost through the mansion.”
“I did,” I admit.
Farrow’s smile stretches into a laugh. “No shit?”
I bounce my head, then smack his chest as he rises. “Thanks, by the way.” I pause. “For being there for him.”
Farrow filled in as best man. He stood next to my brother. He handed him the ring.
I add, “And I know Charlie and Beckett were up there too, but that’s not the same as having a friend. It meant a lot to me that my brother wasn’t alone.”
Farrow’s smile softens. “Anytime.”
“Hey, Farrow!” Loren Hale calls from afar, who has Ripley in his arms. They must need something in the diaper bag, so I nod goodbye to Farrow and dip out.
I end up on the edge of the dance floor where my four-foot-eleven Grandma Carol sips on a glass of brandy and shimmies left and right to Sinatra. “Banks!” she exclaims as soon as I approach, and I bend down and kiss her rosy-red cheek.
“My boys are all together.” She cups my face as I’m bent down. “Oh, don’t youse look so handsome.”
I’ve never seen eyes that smile as brightly as hers. None of us would’ve made it without her in our lives.
I stand up fully. “You look more beautiful than I look handsome, Grandma.”
She waves her hand like I’m full of shit. “Let’s dance. Youse hear that?”
Sinatra. “Andrea Bocelli?”
My mom snorts, coming up to us, “You go to Yellowstone and come back a smartass.”
“Hey, Ma,” I greet, and my grandma is still grinning as I spin her again. With my hand still in Grandma Carol’s, I kiss my mom’s cheek. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She doesn’t even glance down at her black sequined pantsuit. She’s just smiling at me like she knows I’ve been through the ringer and need all the love I can get. “Banksy. We missed you.” She reaches