“Jonathan was out of his mind the night he left my house,” Miller said. “We’ve gone over this. I’m done with it.”
“It’s not your fault—what happened.” Shuffling came from the office, as if maybe Kayce had moved closer to make Miller hear. “I know you loved Jonathan like a brother, but you’remybrother.”
“I kicked Jonathan out. Is that what you want me to admit?”
Silence. “So it wasn’t his choice to leave?”
“He didn’t have a choice. I told him to go back to you.”
Miller was admitting that he kicked Jonathan out, but not the rest? Why not tell her the whole truth?
“But he didn’t.” Somewhere a sink ran and a door upstairs closed. Normal house noises above while below, Kayce begged with her brother for any scraps of information he could give. “There’s more to this story, and I won’t be put off any longer. You owe me the truth.”
“I’ve given it to you. Countless times.”
“The full truth.”
My back to the wall, I forced my breath to go shallow, hoping they didn’t hear me.
A normal person would leave. Give these two their privacy.
Yet there I was. Lurking in the shadows with my head tilted toward my better ear.
“I’ll tell you whatmytruth is,” Miller said. “I have guilt. So much guilt. If only I’d kept my mouth shut, if only I’d found Jonathan a different counselor, different therapies. If only I’d let him talk all he wanted instead of making him feel like I couldn’t handle his tortured words one more day. That’s completely on me. If I’d treated your husband differently, instead of thinking of myself, maybe Jonathan would still be here today.”
“He’s gone, Miller,” Kayce said after a long moment. “I have so many what-ifs and regrets as well. But in the end, he was sick. His mental health was beyond our help, and in that altered state, he made a choice.” She sniffed once, then again. “I miss him.”
“I do too, sis.”
“But I miss you as well.”
When I heard movement, feet shifting, bodies in motion, I peeked around the door. Miller and his sister embraced near his desk. He held his sister to him as if she were precious, his eyes closed, his face tensed.
“I don’t want there to be secrets between us,” Kayce said. “I’m home for good in two months. When I take over Hope Farms, I want you to return to San Francisco with a clear conscience and the new start you deserve.”
Wait, what?
My entire body stilled, frozen from toe to head. I was a statue of confusion, a tableau of bewildered rage. Miller was leaving?
“All I need is your forgiveness, Kayce,” Miller said. “I can’t leave here without it.”
“There was never anything to forgive.” Kayce sniffled again and gave a small, hollow laugh. “You’re not responsible. Do you accept that once and for all? Can we move on from this and go on with our lives?”
No, Miller. Tell her. Then, step out here and explain why you hadn’t mentioned you’re moving!
“I’m ready to let it go,” Miller said. “I want to be done with it all.”
I was pretty certain my heart had just slipped from its perch in my chest and flopped onto Miller’s very expensive floor. I had more questions than answers—a hundred feelings and few of them good.
“Is your return date still the last week of November?” he asked.
“So far, but you know how things change in my world. But I’m ready. How long can you give me for training?”
“I can stay about a month,” Miller said. “Then my foreman will handle the rest. He’s capable.”
“Then you go back home to California,” Kayce repeated.
“Yes,” I heard Miller say. “Then I go back home.”
