“Worth a phone call, at least?”

“Maybe. Five minutes ago, I would have said I never wanted to talk about this again … that I want to let it fade away.”

“But it hasn’t.”

“Exactly,” I agree with a frustrated groan. “It’s been years, and every time I think it’s finally over, another round starts.”

“Okay.”

“So, maybe I should consider this?”

“It’s only a phone call. You aren’t committing to anything.”

“And it’s a chance to control my own narrative.”

“Definitely. If nothing else, you get your say. Micah,” Duke says, his tone serious, “this could be a game changer for you and your family.”

“Or it could be the worst idea ever and they’re just trying to fuck with us.”

Duke snorts good-naturedly. “Won’t know until you ask.”

The bell over the door rings, and a customer comes in, ending our conversation. But as the snow starts to stick to the windowsill, I consider what it might be like to have my say after all this time.

Later that night, Meg and I are getting off work when Duke calls to say he’s at Emily’s new boyfriend’s place and is too drunk to drive home. Duke doesn’t even really like Emily, but her friends are older and can buy alcohol. Which isn’t really a thing he cares that much about. Until recently. He must be getting more shit at home.

He’s waiting on the curb when we pull up, and he swings open the back passenger door, throwing his body on the seat in a beer-soaked huff.

“You sure you want to go home?” I ask. It’s barely nine thirty. “Want to grab some food first?”

“Nah. Just puked up my dinner, thanks. I’m good. David and Laura are out of town.”

“Ah.” That explains a lot.

“Before he left, he made sure to mention that I’m not to have any visitors. Bought a fucking nanny cam. Told me he would be checking it regularly.”

Meg laughs, but at my look, she cuts off. “Wait, seriously?”

Duke ignores her. “‘No guests, Duke. Female or male. They won’t be tolerated.’”

“Shit,” I mutter, flipping my blinker. Meg looks stricken in the light of the passing cars.

The car is silent for several long minutes before Meg clears her throat. “Duke?” she asks softly.

His eyes are closed, and he’s laying his head back on the seat. “Yes, my heart?”

Meg’s lips press together tremulously, and she turns in her seat to face Duke. “I love you. You know that, right? Micah, too. You’re enough just as you are.”

“Too much at times, even,” I say, smiling at him in the mirror so he knows I’m mostly kidding.

“I know,” he says quietly, his lips curling into a small grin. “But I gotta get the hell out of here.”