I stayed in the shadows, staring at the screen. My brother’s name burned into me.
He hadn’t texted after I got the job. He didn’t congratulate me when I got published. He didn’t even send a card when I moved across the country. And yet—he watched the game and reached out?
I didn’t know what this was. A peace offering? A guilt trip? A trap?
But I also knew the truth. I would give anything to fix what was broken between us.
I tapped out a reply, then deleted it. Then tried again.
Sloane: I have a little time. Where are you thinking?
Three dots appeared. Vanished. Appeared again.
Big Bro: There’s a diner a few blocks from the hotel. The one with the outdoor patio. You know it.
Sloane: I’ll be there.
I did know it. We used to go there after his football games in high school. I’d sit in my slides and hoodie and pick fries off his plate. My chest squeezed.
I inhaled, clicked off my phone, and turned toward Mac. He stood by the bench near the staff bus, clipboard in hand.
“Hey,” I said. “I need to catch a later flight. Can I head back tomorrow?”
His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t ask. He nodded. “You good?”
“Yeah, I have family in town I want to see,” I said, gripping the phone even tighter as I waited for his answer.
He ran a hand over his jaw, then nodded. “Yeah, take tomorrow off. We’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Thank you.” I offered a weak smile then took off toward the exit.
I was unsure how the hell I felt. First the thing with Oliver, now my brother. My world was about to turn to absolute chaos. God, Oliver. He wanted to hang out tonight, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. This was the perfect excuse, and without worrying about the ramifications, I sent a text to the leadership text thread about seeing them in the office later tomorrow afternoon. I had a family thing come up. I also typed up a quick text to Oliver, saying something urgent came up and I had to sneak out.
Ivy’s response was immediate:take care, see you soon!
After confirming another night at the hotel, I grabbed a protein smoothie from the lobby bar and made my way toward the diner. It was nearly eleven, but the place stayed open twenty-four hours. We’d been coming here since middle school—after games, after movies, when life was easier and neither of us had felt like disappointments. Back when we were us.
The streets were quiet. Lowlight spilled from lampposts onto the cracked sidewalk. The same blue-and-white striped awning fluttered faintly in the breeze. A chalkboard sign still leaned by the front window, advertising a pumpkin spice milkshake like nothing in the world had changed.
But everything had.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Oliver: Why are you staying back? Couldn’t share that with me?
I swallowed hard, thumb hovering over the screen. I owed him an explanation, despite my own confusion over what happened. Before I got my brother’s text, I’d been a mess deciding what to do about tonight. Did I visit him? Did I stop this between us?
No.
I knew I couldn’t walk away from him, but my brother’s text reminded me everything you wanted could be taken away from you in seconds. My brain couldn’t handle splitting, not when Caleb texted me after a year.
Sloane: I’m sorry, Oliver. It came up suddenly. It’s… about my family. I…I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.
I couldn’t worry about him now. I slid the phone into my pocket and stepped forward, hand closing around the familiar brass handle on the diner door. The bell above it jingled as I stepped inside. The scent of burnt coffee and sugar hit me instantly, sharp with nostalgia and something like guilt.
The place wasn’t crowded. A couple sitting side-by-side in a booth shared a milkshake. A dad helped his toddler with a grilled cheese. The same night-shift waitress from decades ago refilled a mug with coffee and didn’t look up when I walked in. Nothing about the place had changed. Same chipped tile floor. Same yellow overhead light that made everyone look a little tired. A little older.
I spotted him right away.
