“Heard. I’m not gonna lie; I need a break after this season. It was a shit show. We need to get a new quarterback. I hate to say it ’cause I love the guy, but it’s long overdue.” He huffs. “Oh, but, hey, have you talked to Ace yet? I’m stoked for him. Seriously. It’s a big deal.”
“I did. He called me last night,” I say, my voice hollow. “I’m excited for him too. It’s a hell of an accomplishment.”
“Sure is. And you guys had a good season despite the playoff loss. You looked strong. Honestly, you’re having a great run.”
“Thanks, Arch. It was a grind, but, yeah, overall, it was a good season.”
“I’m proud of you two. Still wild to play against you, but it’s fun. And I love to see you both develop and make your own place in the league,” he says, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice, which makes this conversation that much harder to start.
I sit up in bed and bend my knees, then rest my arm over them. “Arch,” I start, sounding a little rougher than I want to, “I need some advice.”
“All right, hit me,” he says easily.
I just bite the bullet and start. “Hypothetically, how would you handle telling your brother you’re seeing his ex?”
The line goes silent for a beat. Even the noise of the kids in the background seems to fade as Archie processes what I just asked. Then a low, incredulous laugh breaks through the line.
“Hypothetically?” Archie chuckles, though the humor in his voice has smoothed out into something more serious. “Dude, where the hell is this coming from?”
“I told you. It’s just a scenario. I’m trying to figure something out.”
“Uh huh. Yeah, okay, and I’m the King of England,” Archie says, letting out a sharp breath.
I can’t just tell him. Not yet.
“Come on, Arch?—”
“Look,” Archie interrupts, his voice dropping softer, but his tone is clear. “I love you, but in this family, family always comes first. That line is pretty solid. But you gotta ask yourself if it’s worth it because you don’t look across the fence at what your brother cleared out of his way. That’s just an unwritten rule, you feel me?”
“It’s not like that, Arch,” I say defensively. “It’s … ” I pause, not really knowing what to say without spilling my guts.
“There ain’t a different version of that playbook, brother,” Archie says, a sympathetic sigh cutting through the line. “If you’re carrying something heavy that could hurt someone you love, you drop it. You bury it before it gets too deep. It’s just not worth the fallout.”
I can’t breathe. I stare out the window, looking at the trees covered in snow.I can’t say her name.I’m not sure what he’d say, and I know it won’t change his mind. Even with his sense of humor, family isn’t something he jokes around about.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I get it.”
“Alright. Shake it off, Aston,” Archie says, his tone lifting back into that older-brother ease. “Leave whatever is messin’ with your head alone. Go on a trip or something. Reset.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to swallow the cotton that’s stuck in my throat.
“And hey, come home for a visit too. Mom and Dad miss you, and Lainey, Duke, and Tucker all miss their Uncle Aston.”
“I’ll come home soon. I miss y’all too.”
“Love ya, kid. Talk soon.”
The phone call ends before I can reply.
I let my arm fall to my side and drop my head to my knees. The answer is no clearer than they were before this call.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ASTON
Ace: Dude. Just looked at the awards schedule.
Ace: Eva's the executive producer. What are the fucking chances?
