Page 62 of Everything We Found

Because it went without saying that by the time he had tried to speak with James, it had been too late. His brother had and always would despise him.

Thomas didn’t hesitate. He burst onto the porch, following Nadia around the house. She wasn’t too far ahead. He caught aglimpse of her between the outbuildings, but she was sprinting fast, already halfway across the yard. She stormed past the paddocks and between the barn and stables toward the open field beyond.

“Nadia!” he shouted, but she didn’t slow down.

By the time he reached the field and they’d traversed well beyond Cammy’s property, Nadia had finally stopped. She stood bent over, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. The high noon sun beat down on her, catching the auburn highlights in her hair. He approached cautiously, his footsteps deliberately heavy so she’d hear him coming.

“Nadia?” He reached out, gently touching her back.

She whirled around, knocking his hand away. Her face was flushed, damp, her eyes glassy with hot tears. “I’m not like you,” she spat, her palms slamming against his chest. She shoved him backward. He stumbled but caught himself. “I can’t turn my back on everyone and disappear.”

“You think I can?” he countered. Despite his attempts at equanimity, his agitation shoved to the front of the line. “You think this is any easier on me?” His mother had lost James once. She’d just lost Phil. Now she was going to lose him.

It went the other way too. He’d likely never see Cammy again. There’d be no chance of reconciliation with James.

Nadia shoved him again, harder this time, both palms connecting with his chest. “We aren’t wired the same. God, every time there’s something good in my life, you ruin it for me!”

The accusation hit him like a physical blow. He’d spent years telling himself his actions were necessary, justified. He’d been trying to protect her. But hearing her say it out loud—seeing her pain etched into the lines of her face—made him believe everything he’d convinced himself of had been a misconception.

“You’re right. I screwed up. I made mistakes,” he shouted. “My methods are unorthodox, but they kept my brother alive, and they’ll keep you safe.”

“What have I ever done to you to deserve this?” She was close to screaming at him now, her shouts carrying across the barren landscape. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I kept your secrets. Every last one of them. But this—to disappear forever? You ask too much.”

She paced frantically, kicking at the dusty ground. “I never asked you to help my mom with the house either. How dare you give up your dreams for me,” she accused, going way back in time. “You hung that over my head for years, making me feel like I owed you.”

“That was never my intention,” he protested.

“What was it that you said to me once? Some lies are better than the truth? You couldn’t have been more right. You should have lied to me about what you did. Scratch that.” She swiped her arms between them. “You never should have told me. I wish I never knew.”

“I never wanted you to feel guilty. I just wanted you to feel safe and loved.”

She stopped pacing and stared at him, incredulous. “What do you know of love? You manipulate people to your will. You do what you think is best for them without ever asking them. And all the while you sacrifice yourself over and over for a family who has never returned your level of devotion. Why?”

His answer came simply, without thought. “Because they’re my family. The only one I have.”

She stalked over to him. “And where do I fit into all this? Why do you always suck me into your drama?”

“Believe me, that’s not intentional either.”

“Then what is it?” She stood directly before him, her eyes boring up into his. “What is it about me?”

The question struck at something deep within him—something he rarely allowed himself to examine. He let himself feel the weight of everything unspoken between them—years of shared secrets, stolen glances, moments of connection he never allotted time to acknowledge. But in this moment, with everything falling apart around them, there seemed no point in hiding anymore.

“Love,” he said simply.

A spasm of shock crossed her face at his declaration. She took a half-step back.

“I love you,” he continued, speaking more steadily. “I have for most of my life.”

“What?” Her mouth opened and closed. “You mean as a sister?—”

He barked a dry laugh. “I haveneverthought of you as a sister.”

She blinked, and he watched with intrigue as something she must have convinced herself of was replaced with something akin to amazement. Something, dare he say, closer to awe. “You love me.”

“Always have.” He swallowed roughly and slowly nodded. “Always,” he whispered, his heart wide open for her to slay.

For a suspended moment, she stared up at him. Then, without warning, she closed the distance between them and, grasping his face with both hands, pressed her lips to his in a fierce, desperate kiss.