“So, Bryan,” he says, making me roll my eyes.
“It’s Brandon, Harland,” Ashlyn corrects him again, this time with more frustration. “Knock it off.”
He smirks at her. “Right. Brayden. What do you do for a living?”
“I work at Bay Ridge Legal with Ashlyn, but I’m hoping that’s just a temporary thing,” he explains. “I’m trying to get onto the police force. I want to be a cop.”
Harland’s brows raise in amusement. “A cop? So you want my sister to be worried sick every night, waiting for you to come home?”
“Harland!” Ash hisses.
He leans back and puts his hands on the back of his head. “What? I just want to make sure he’s thinking of you while making all these major decisions.”
Oh my God. He’s acting like they’re engaged, when they’ve been dating for only a couple of months. Even their mom is staring down at her plate like she doesn’t know whether to intervene or stay out of it. Honestly, while I’d normally choose the latter, I can’t seem to watch this poor guy squirm anymore. And besides, if Ashlyn is on one of her my brother is an asshole rants for the next week, she really won’t take the news of him being Hollis’s dad well.
I take my phone out and discreetly send a text to Harland.
Me: Can you go a little easier on him, please?
Thankfully, he reads it and answers without it being seen.
Harland: Why? The guy’s a complete tool. He doesn’t deserve her.
Me: Maybe so, but she really likes him. At least give him a chance.
I debate sending something else for a moment before finally saying fuck it. What can it really hurt?
Me: Please? For me?
Harland reads the text, and I watch as his eyes soften and he bites his lip. He subtly glances at me and sighs.
“I’m just messing around, Brandon,” he says, finally getting his name right. “I’m protective of my sister. I’m sure you can understand that.”
“Absolutely,” Brandon answers. “I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t.”
His jaw locks like he’s holding back from making another snide comment, and I know he’s only doing it for me.
I’ll take that as a win.
After dinner, we’re all sitting in the living room when Ashlyn comes back with a stack of photo albums. She’s going on and on about how she’s been meaning to look at these for ages and tells Brandon that she wants to show him the bed she had as a kid. It was a top bunk, with a playhouse underneath, and an actual slide to get down. I remember that bed. I was super jealous of it.
However, as she’s flipping through all the pictures, my eyes are locked on Harland. He’s sitting on the floor with Hollis, playing with the new toys he got him. They laugh like they’ve always been the best of friends, and if I was thinking clearly, I’d be worried someone would notice, but I’m mesmerized.
“Oh, look!” Ashlyn exclaims, bringing my attention back to her. “I was what—one—here?”
I glance over at the photo album and smile at my best friend’s toothy baby grin. She’s wearing a light pink tutu dress, and the next few pictures show how it was ruined by the cake she ate that day.
“I was the cutest baby,” she says conceitedly, but she’s not wrong.
She really was adorable.
As she turns the page, Brandon’s eyes narrow in bewilderment. “Why is there a picture of Hollis in your baby album?”
Ashlyn looks at where he’s pointing, and my heart rate starts to quicken. “Oh, that’s Harland.”
I can see the very moment it clicks in her head, because her breathing stops, and mine does, too.
“Wait,” she whispers, looking between the picture and to where her brother is sitting on the floor with our son. “No.”
She looks over at me, her eyes begging for the answers she’s already figured out on her own, and I don’t think anything could keep it from being written all over my face.
“Ash,” I start, but she throws the album off her lap and stands up.
“Are you kidding me?” she roars. “Are you actually fucking kidding me right now?”
“Potty mouth, Aunt Ashlyn!” Hollis chimes in, and I cringe.
She looks over at him and then at Harland, who is frozen in place. “And you. You knew about this?”
He sighs. “Maybe this isn’t exactly the time for this, A.”
The nickname is one that only he’s ever used with her. One that originated when they were kids and she was jealous of his H nickname. And I know he used it in an attempt to calm her down, but it’s hopeless.
“You’re right,” she scoffs. “It’s not the right time for this. You know what would have been the right time?” She narrows her eyes on me. “Almost five years ago, when you found out you were pregnant!”
Tears stream down my face faster than I can wipe them away, and I just hope that Hollis doesn’t turn around and see me upset. He’s incredibly empathetic and will stop everything to comfort me.
“Let me explain, please,” I beg.
“It’s too late to explain, Emery.” Her shoulders sag in utter despair. “You ruined everything.”
"Ashlyn,” her mom tries, and I realize that not only is Ash learning the truth, but so is her mom.
My best friend closes her eyes for a second, and then shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry, but no. I can’t do this.”
She walks right out the front door, and I’m a fucking mess. I look back and forth from the door that just slammed shut and where my son is playing on the floor, and Harland’s voice breaks through my inner turmoil.
“Go,” he tells me. “Go ahead. I’ve got him. Go talk to her.”
I sigh in relief and mouth a silent thank you to him before running after Ashlyn.
She’s halfway to her car by the time I get out there, but I’m just glad she hasn’t left yet.
“Ash,” I call. “Ash, please.”
She throws her head back and stops. “What, Emery?”
“Don’t leave. Just stay here and talk to me. We can work this out.”
“Work this out?” she sneers. “He’s fucking four Em, and I’m just now finding out that the deadbeat I mentally cursed out for years is my fucking brother. I think we’re well past talking.”
She turns around and goes to walk away, but then stops again.
“And you know what?” She spins back to face me again. “I noticed the similarities. When he was born, the thought went through my mind, but I told myself no. Emery would never do that to me. She would tell me. But you never did, so I convinced myself that I was just crazy. That the similarities were all in my head. Because my best friend would never lie to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah,” she breathes. “I am, too. I’m sorry I ever trusted you.”
Chapter Eight
Harland