“We didn’t have a chance to tell you everything that day at the pub,” Tate interrupts gently. “When we were going through Dad’s things, we also found a letter. It was addressed to Elena, but it had been returned unopened. She must have moved and not left a forwarding address.”
Tristan nods. “Along with the letter, there was a note where he mentioned Elena specifically. He wrote that he made a terrible mistake letting her go. That he was selfish and heartless, that he panicked when she told him she was pregnant.”
My heart starts pounding. “What else?”
“In that note, he admitted to giving her money to…” Tate’s voice catches. “To terminate the pregnancy. But she ran instead. Never contacted him again. The return label on the letter showed she’d left Connecticut, where she lived at the time, but he never found out where she went. He thought she might have gone through with it until years later, when he found out she hadn’t. That’s when he started sending money again.”
“We found a second will with the letter and the note,” Tristan adds. “He wrote that he hoped it was enough. He didn’t apologize for his behavior or his mistakes. Just said he tried to make it right.”
Tears start rolling down my cheeks before I even realize I’m crying. “Did you…? Did you have a relationship with him?”
“Not really,” Tate says softly. “He was…distant. Cold. The kind of father who thought providing financially was enough. Even when I lived with him in Boston, I couldn’t call him an exemplary father. Tristan had it even harder. Dad would cancel their visits last minute, saying work came up.” He pauses, sharing a look with his twin. “But we’d really like to have a relationship with you if you’re willing. We know this is a lot to take in.”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “I just… I didn’t think I had any family left after Mom died. And now, I suddenly have brothers.”
“We can do a DNA test if you want,” Tristan offers. “But honestly? We don’t need one. We can feel it. You’re our brother.”
I look between them, searching their faces. They have the same dark eyes as me, the same slightly tanned skin tone. But it’s more than that. It’s the way Tate fidgets with his coffee cup just like I do, the way Tristan’s smile turns up more on one side, just like mine.
“My whole life,” I say, my voice breaking, “it was just Mom and me. And I loved that, I did. But sometimes…” I trail off, remembering lonely parent-teacher conferences, empty chairs at my high school graduation. “Sometimes I’d wonder what it would be like to have siblings.”
“Well,” Tate says with a gentle smile, “now you’ve got two very protective older brothers. Even if we are only older by a few years.”
“And nieces and nephews who are going to adore their Uncle Caspian,” Tristan adds. “Bailey already adores you. He hasn’t put down the book he got here the other day.”
Something in my chest breaks open at their words, at the easy way they include me in their family, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m standing and pulling them both into a hug. They wrap their arms around me immediately, and for the first time since Mom died, I don’t feel quite so alone.
“So,” Tate says when we finally break apart, all of us wiping our eyes. “Tell us about yourself? We want to know everything.”
I laugh wetly. “Where do I even start?”
“Anywhere,” Tristan says. “We’ve got time.”
As I begin telling them about growing up with Mom in Phoenix, about my dreams for Special Blend, about moving to Maplewood, something shifts inside me. Like a piece of a puzzle I didn’t even know was missing has finally clicked into place.
We talk until it’s past the time to open the shop. As they get ready to leave, Tristan clears his throat.
“We’re in Maplewood for a few more days,” he says. “We’d love to have dinner together as a family. Maybe Nate could join us too?”
I fidget with my apron. “Things between Nate and me are…complicated right now.”
“About that,” Tate says, running a hand through his hair. “We need to tell you something. We kind of took advantage of Nate’s connection to you to set up our meeting. He was very specific about not wanting to hurt you. Made us promise we’d handle it right.”
“Which we clearly didn’t,” Tristan adds. “So if anyone deserves your anger, it’s us, not him.”
I think about Nate, about how devastated he looked at the festival, how he’s been trying to make things right. “I’d love to have dinner with you all,” I say softly. “And…maybe I’ll talk to Nate about joining us.”
Both brothers hug me again.
“Thank you for giving us a chance,” Tate says.
“Thank you for finding me,” I reply.
After they leave, I stand in my empty coffee shop, feeling both exhausted and strangely light. I have brothers. I have family. And maybe, just maybe, I still have Nate too.
CHAPTER 34
NATE
