Limousines have been arranged to take the family to each event, and Archer slips into ours at the last second, taking a seat beside Tatum.
I let go of the slice of jealousy that forces its way through me. She’s choosing me, and she has a history with him. Sheshouldbe there for him during this difficult time. We may not have been close to our mother, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t lose someone important to our family—no matter how much Archer claims he isn’t a part of it.
And that’s where I find myself torn. If I go through with this wedding, Tatum gets the money back to put toward another venue. She gets to keep building toward her dreams. I get everything I’ve wanted for a decade. But I also put my already fragile relationship with my brother into even greater jeopardy.
If wedon’tgo through with it, though, we don’t get that money back. We weren’t expecting it, but it’s an awfully nice bonus. If we don’t go through with it, maybe we’ll build toward this same place eventually, if we’re truly meant to be. But maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll lose each other. Maybe I’ll lose everything…notjusta brother who I already lost anyway.
I blow out a breath.
The decisive piece that makes up my personality wants to make a snap decision. Marry her. It’s what you want anyway.
But the pragmatic side wants to weigh the options carefully and make sure we’re doing the right thing.
Only…we don’t have that kind of time.
We have nine days.
We have a funeral to attend.
I have practice tomorrow.
I have a game this Sunday.
It’s a lot. All of it. It’s weighing on me. Heavily.
Can I really do this to my brother?
I think of her standing in the towel this morning as I pulled her in for a kiss.
Can I reallynotdo this and give up the only thing I’ve ever really wanted?
I don’t think I can.
She sits between us at the cathedral. She walks with Kennedy as my brothers and I carry the casket out of the church and help load it into the hearse. She sits between us in the limo as we travel to the cemetery. She holds each of our hands as we say goodbye.
Ivy cries. The rest of us are stoic, Everleigh included.
We make it to the reception, where we’re forced to mingle and dine with the members of high society my mother considered friends—or associates, at least.
We take pictures. A lot of them. The seven Bradley siblings are all in the same place, and apparently that’s big news when it comes to town gossip. Four pro football players, a pro baseball player, a brand strategist engaged to a pro football player, and the baby sister still finding her way in the world. We’re all in the same place at the same time, and we’re all dressed up. It’s the photo op of the century.
We make it back to the mansion one more time to gather our belongings and meet in our father’s office, which looks like it did long before the feds upturned it not so long ago. It’s a big office, but it’s still crowded with our father sitting behind the desk, his lawyer standing behind him, and the rest of us gathered around.
Madden sits in one of the chairs facing the desk with Kennedy standing behind him. Ivy sits in the other chair.
Dex, Ainsley, and Jack are on the couch with Everleigh and Maverick beside them.
Archer and Liam lean against the wall next to the couch. Tatum and I stand near the door.
“Your mother left you each something she thought would be meaningful to you,” Dad begins. He nods to his lawyer. “Paul has an envelope for each of you. She also wanted Everleigh and Ivy to take whatever they wanted from her closet. She specifically wanted Everleigh to get anything red and Ivy to get anything blue.”
Maverick lets out a little chuckle at that.
It’s the first sign that maybe our mother knew us better than we thought she did.
Each of us gets our envelope from the eldest to the youngest, and we all open them at the same time.
Mine is a letter from my mother.
