The Home-wrecker (The Goode Brothers)
The Home-wrecker: Chapter 51

The front door closing wakes me up. I pop up in bed and look at the clock to see it’s past midnight. Caleb isn’t beside me, so I wait until I hear his familiar footsteps on the stairs before I relax.

When he steps into the room and sees me awake, he pauses. “Sorry,” he whispers. “Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. Where were you?” I ask.

He’s in jeans and a baseball cap, definitely not what I’m used to seeing him in. With a sigh, he drops onto his side of the bed and stares at me.

“I saw Isaac,” he whispers.

I let out a gasp. “What? Where?”

As he explains everything, how he’s been following this country singer, who is actually his estranged brother, on Instagram and found out he had a show in Austin tonight, I feel grateful and regretful at the same time. On the one hand, I’m glad Caleb is at a place where he feels comfortable sharing these secrets with me, but at the same time, I hate that he had secrets in the first place.

“I realized something tonight,” he says softly. “We can’t just let Dean go.”

“Caleb,” I start with the tone of a warning. “We can’t⁠—”

“I know,” he says, cutting me off. “We can’t force him, but we have to fight for him, Briar. Because if we don’t, then we’re basically letting people like my father win.”

“But…what if he resents us?” I ask. If I had any tears left to cry, I would, but I’m exhausted. Every ounce of energy to feel anything has been spent.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, but we have to try. What a waste to throw love away to try and be free. We may never be free, Briar. But this way, we can at least be together. I fought for you, and I’ll fight for him just the same.”

He grips my hand in his, squeezing tight. His eyes are rimmed red, which I know means he’s been crying. Deep down, I know he’s right. It’s a mistake to let this go.

“Come to bed,” I whisper. “We can talk to him tomorrow while Abby’s at school.”

With a sigh, he finally relents. I watch as he undresses and climbs into bed beside me. I place my head on his chest and stare up at him. Pressing his lips to mine, he kisses me softly.

Before long, I drift off to sleep, but I can feel Caleb beside me, restless all night.

“Don’t forget your lunch box!” I shout toward Abby as she bolts for the front door. The long yellow bus can be heard from all the way down the street as it heads toward our house.

Jogging behind Abby, I hand her her lunch and kiss her on the head as she runs to meet the other kids getting on the bus on our street.

She giggles excitedly with her friends as the bus rolls up and stops in front of them. It’s still so hard to watch her go to school every morning. Not being there to protect her at every moment takes strength and faith as a parent I never prepared for.

Putting on a brave face, I watch from the porch as Abby climbs onto the school bus. Once she finds her seat, she waves at me through the window, and I wave back.

I’m so deep in thought as her bus rolls away that I hardly notice the car missing from our driveway. As I head back toward the house, I glance toward the apartment above the garage, where I know Dean is currently sleeping.

But I stop in my tracks and glance back toward the driveway for a sign of his car. Dread rolls through me when I realize it’s not there.

“Caleb,” I call, moving quickly toward the house. As I enter the back door that leads to the kitchen, I find Caleb pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Do you know where Dean is?”

He pauses. “He’s not in his apartment?”

“His car’s gone,” I reply.

When our gazes meet, I recognize the instant fear in his eyes. I rush out the door first, jogging across the yard and up the stairs. I bang on his door, hoping he’ll answer and put this fear to rest. I’m aware there are a hundred possibilities of where he could be that is nothing to worry about, but my gut tells me something is wrong.

There’s no answer. Caleb comes up the stairs a moment later with keys in hand. As he unlocks the apartment, I dash inside and find it empty.

“Where could he be?” I ask.

“Let’s not panic,” he replies. “His stuff is still here, so he’s coming back.”

“What if he’s hurt, Caleb? What if there was a car accident or someone hurt him while he was alone? No one would know to call us.”

“I’ll call him,” he replies in a rush, pulling out his phone. I can hear it ringing through the speaker, but after a few unanswered rings, it goes to voice mail.

I pull out my phone and shoot him a text.

Just let us know you’re okay.

In the back of my mind, I know there’s a possibility that Dean is perfectly safe and that he’s just found someone else to keep company overnight and into the early morning hours. That realization hurts, but could we blame him?

Caleb and I have each other. If Dean is alone, he has no one.

“Adam,” Caleb says, holding his phone to his ear after calling his brother. “Did Dean come into work last night? He’s not home, and we’re a little worried.”

I stare, waiting for a response.

Caleb looks at me, his expression shrouded in disappointment. “He didn’t? Okay. Yeah, if you hear anything, let us know.”

He hangs up his phone, and I bring my hand to my forehead.

“Where could he be? He never goes anywhere this early in the morning.”

“It’s too early to start panicking,” Caleb replies, and I turn away from him, annoyed with that response. All of a sudden, he’s the calm and collected one. Normally, it’s the other way around.

As the minutes roll by and Caleb and I spend the next hour pacing around and waiting, the worry starts to congeal and turn into guilt. I promised his father I wouldn’t let Dean be alone. I promised that we would always have him. We would always be there to protect him.

Suddenly, I stop pacing and quickly pull out my phone. It’s a long shot, but I do a quick search of the nursing home where we met Dean’s father. Biting my lip nervously, I hit the call button. After a couple of rings, someone picks up.

“Hi, I’m looking for information for one of your residents, Sal Sheridan,” I say, trying to remain calm.

“Can I ask who’s speaking?” she replies.

“I’m…his daughter-in-law.”

The line goes quiet for a moment before the woman says, “Unfortunately, I can’t give you any information about a patient over the phone.”

I let out a huff of frustration, ready to call it a dead end.

Then the nurse continues, “But I remember you. You came in with Mr. Sheridan’s son, right?”

“Yes, Rhonda,” I say, holding a hand to my chest as I remember the kind woman who spoke with us. Somehow, I know where this is going.

“I was the nurse who spoke to you and your…husband. It was a good thing you signed that release for your father-in-law while you were here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything.”

My brows furrow as I try to think back to that day that we visited. I definitely didn’t sign anything, but judging by the nurse’s tone, I think she’s trying to tell me she can help me.

“Yes!” I reply. “I did…sign that release. And I’m just looking for my…husband. Have you, by chance, seen him?”

“Your husband is here, Mrs. Sheridan,” the nurse replies somberly.

“Oh, thank God,” I mumble.

“And I don’t think he should be alone right now.”

“He’s alone?” I cry.

There’s movement on the line, and Rhonda replies in a hushed whisper. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this over the phone, but Mr. Sheridan passed late last night.”

A yelp escapes my lips as I press my fingers over my eyes. I have to breathe for a moment, gathering the strength to speak again without sobbing.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I wish I had your information to call you sooner. Your husband is not doing well. We’ve let him stay because we feel terrible, but he won’t leave Mr. Sheridan’s room.”

“Oh god,” I cry.

Caleb is suddenly by my side. I give him a quick nod to signal that I know where Dean is. He runs to grab his keys as I finish with the nurse on the phone.

“Thank you,” I say through my tears. “We’re on our way.”

Hanging up the phone, I run out the door to the car, climbing in the passenger seat as Caleb starts it. After I tell him what Rhonda told me, we don’t say much else on the drive. We just keep our hands held together over the center console.

I know he’s feeling as anxious to see Dean as I am. We won’t feel whole until we’re all together.

As we reach the nursing home, we park in a rush and jog toward the entrance. Rhonda spots us immediately. Giving us a nod, she leads us down the same hallway we walked before and stops at the same room Sal was in the last time we were here.

She slowly opens the door, and the sight is like a knife to my chest. Sal is gone. His bed has been removed and in its place, our sweet Dean sits on the floor in the corner alone, sobbing with his hands in his hair.

Nothing in the world could stop me from running to him. When he hears us coming, he looks up just before I drop to my knees in front of him. I wrap my arms around his neck and feel his face rest against my shoulder. His warm breath is on my neck as I softly stroke his buzzed hair.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asks. His voice sounds cracked and tired.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Caleb replies, dropping onto the floor next to Dean.

“But I am alone,” he cries.

“No, you’re not,” I say, holding him tighter.

“I didn’t expect it to hit me this hard,” he says. “The nurse called last night and told me it was time. I watched him take his last breath. And then that was it. I realized I have no one. No family. Nothing.”

Pulling his face away from my shoulder, I force him to look at me. “Stop saying that. You have us, and we love you.”

“But—” he starts.

“No buts,” Caleb argues. “We are your family, and families stay together. Running from us isn’t going to make anyone’s life easier. You belong with us, Dean.”

He takes Dean’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers and bringing the back of his hand to his lips.

“I’m so sorry about your dad, Dean,” I say, wiping away his tears. “He was a wonderful man.”

Sadly, he smiles. “He was.”

“And he wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

Finally, his eyes meet mine. They are tear-soaked and raw and seeing the pain in them makes me want to hold him in my arms.

Still grasping his face, I bring his lips to mine. “We love you.”

The kiss is soft and tender, and after we pull away, he gently replies, “I love you, too.” His eyes dance back and forth between me and Caleb.

I’ve never felt anything more pure in my life. These I love yous are real because they are hard fought and triumphantly won. It’s a love worth celebrating.

“So come home with us,” I reply.

“Where you belong,” Caleb adds.

“Are you guys sure about this? This is a serious commitment. People won’t like it,” he mutters with anguish on his face.

“They’ll get over it,” I reply.

He manages a hint of a smirk. Then he stares at the floor before finally nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”