"That's rich coming from you," Brea said, her voice deadly calm. "Considering your role in helping Elizabeth Callahan embezzle money from the town's charity fund. Glass houses and stones, dear."
Monica's perfect composure cracked. "That was never proven?—"
"Because you made a deal with the prosecutor to testify against Elizabeth in exchange for immunity," Riley added quietly, her voice steady but her eyes blazing. "My family lost everything, and you walked away without consequences."
"That's enough," Winston said sharply. However, his attention remained fixed on the confrontation with an almost clinical interest, as if he were taking mental notes. He placed a restraining hand on Monica's arm. "I apologize for my companion's inappropriate comments." But then he turned to Walter, his expression shifting to something more complex. "I’m curious—did you actually hire Ms. Tate? In a professional capacity?"
Walter's jaw tightened. "Our staffing decisions aren't your business."
"No, of course not. I'm simply... surprised." Winston's gaze returned to Emery. "Given the circumstances, it's quite the risk you're taking. For everyone involved." The words carried implications that made Emery want to go hide in a museum. "I hope for the sake of your winery—and Ms. Tate—that it works out. The premium wine market can be... unforgiving of mistakes."
"We don't make mistakes," Devon said, his voice tight with controlled anger.
"Don't you?" Winston's smile was cold. "Well. I suppose we'll see." He turned toward the door. "We should go, Monica. Mother and Callie are waiting."
"Yes, we should." Monica smiled and waved politely.
Winston paused at the threshold, looking back at the family gathered protectively around Emery. "Thank you again for agreeing to serve as pallbearers. I'll make sure all the details are forwarded to you."
After they left, the kitchen remained silent for a long moment. Gabe pulled out his cell, tapped at the screen, cleared his throat, and stood. “I need to head home, but before I do, there’s something I need to tell everyone,” he said quietly.
“Sounds serious.” Walter reached for his wine and sipped.
“I don’t know about that. But itisweird.” Gabe pushed his chair in. “I was given notice about the reading of David’s will. Turns out, I’m in it. Something about an item David had in his possession that belonged to my grandfather.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I have no idea what that could be. I called my folks and asked them. They said it could be any number of things, but they couldn’t take a stab at a guess. But the bizarre thing for me is I never even met my granddad.” He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. “Well, it's getting late, and tomorrow's going to be busy."
“Does it bother you that he didn’t even acknowledge you, but he did everyone else in this room?” Walter asked. “Is that why you’re leaving so abruptly?”
“I’m used to it. Winston only spoke to me when his father was around.” Gabe inched toward the door and waved his cell. “Olivia texted, and she needs me to pick up a few things on the way home. Physically, she’s fine. Emotionally, she’s still struggling. I just really need to get home.”
Brea raced to Gabe’s side, resting a hand on his forearm. “I’ll stop by and visit her tomorrow. I had a miscarriage between Devon and Bryson. The situations are vastly different. I already had a child who demanded my attention. If it hadn’t been for Devon, I’m sure I would’ve fallen apart.”
“Olivia always enjoys your company.” Gabe kissed Brea’s cheek. “She’s getting better with each day, and she doesn’t want to let this loss control her entire life. It’s just having two miscarriages so close together…” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Well, she’s worried we won’t be able to have kids.”
Emery flattened her hand against the counter. This wasn’t her business. It wasn’t her place to open her mouth and offer an opinion. But she was going to do it anyway. “Not many people know this about me, and it’s not because it’s some big secret. It’s just because my parents and I believe a family is a family, no matter how it’s made.” Everyone stared at her, and her heart thumped in her chest like a wild rabbit. She swallowed. “My sister and I are both adopted. My mom couldn’t have children. She’d known that since she was a teenager, so adoption was always the solution for them. They never lied to us about it. We just never felt the need to advertise it.”
“I appreciate you sharing that.” Gabe smiled. “I’d love for the two of you to meet sometime.”
“I’d enjoy that,” Emery said.
After Gabe left, the family stayed still and quiet for a long moment.
“He took that miscarriage as bad as Olivia did,” Brea broke the silence. “He’s holding it together. Being strong for his wife. But that’s a man built for a family, and I can see how hurt he is.” Brea rested her head against Walter’s shoulder. “I saw that same hurt in your eyes once.”
“Some of that pain isn’t for the loss of the promise of life.” Walter kissed the top of Brea’s head. “It’s about being powerlessto help the person you love more than anything. It’s the one loss that you really can’t share in. Even though I was excited to have another child, it was only an idea. I couldn’t see or feel it like you.”
Emery wiped a tear that had rolled down her cheek.
“I don’t know what was worse. Seeing Gabe so distraught, or Monica’s rudeness,” Walter said, his voice heavy with regret. “She has no class, and Winston... well, he can be somewhat entitled at times.”
Emery managed a smile that felt more genuine than she'd expected. "Thank you. All of you. For defending me.” She stood, suddenly exhausted by the emotional roller coaster of the evening. "But I think I need some air. It's been a long day."
"Emery," Brea started, but Emery was already moving toward the door.
"I'm fine, really. Just tired. Thank you for dinner, for the wine, for... everything."
She slipped out the back door before anyone could protest, breathing deeply of the cool night air. The guesthouse beckoned like a sanctuary, but she'd barely made it halfway down the path when she heard footsteps behind her.
“Hey, wait up.”
