“Yes. Do you enjoy bourbon as much as Constantine?” Juliette asked, not catching on to my father’s confusion. And there was no way she would unless her father had been honest with her—what was it?—twelve or thirteen years ago.

“I do,” he answered her, eyes shooting to me.

Of course he had questions. Who wouldn’t? If I were in his shoes, I’d have quite a few.

I adjusted my hat, swirling it around face forward to better shield my eyes from my father’s sudden scrutiny. “No, I had no clue her family owned the brand back then. No clue she was a Carmichael. Juliette recommended the drink to me in Aruba, and because of her, I became obsessed with it.” I laid out the truth as quickly as possible.

“You’re obsessed with Grandpa’s bourbon?” At Colin’s question, I redirected my attention to his narrowed, curious eyes.

I took a deep breath to power through, doing something I never did—openly talk about myself in front of others. “Yes, I drank it because of your mom, never knowing your last name was staring me in the face on the bottle.”

From my peripheral view, I noticed Hudson urging Izzy to leave the room with him.

Mom set aside the photo album and stood, gently reaching for Colin’s arm to rise, which he did.

“You’re wrong.” Colin pulled his hand free from my mother’s hold to fidget with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Carmichael’s not my last name.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “Well, it won’t be for much longer.”

My mom closed her eyes, and I knew she was fighting tears, while my father rested his hand over his heart as if the pressure in his chest was getting to him. Welcome to how I’ve felt all weekend.

Mom opened her eyes and looked directly at Colin. “Let’s get you a snack while they talk?” She picked up the photo album and held it out toward the kitchen.

“Colin,” I called after him as he started to follow her out. “I’d like that.” Juliette and I had already spoken about this, but hearing the words from his mouth made it that much more real.

He smiled, then disappeared from the room with my mother.

“There’s more to this story, isn’t there?” Juliette stood and brought her fingers beneath her eyes, catching her tears.

I tipped my head to my father, offering him the floor to speak.

“An old friend of mine is a major alcohol distributor.” My father slipped his hands into his pockets, focusing on her. “It was maybe twelve years ago he told me he heard from a reliable source that Legacy Ridge was in trouble. He knew it was Constantine’s favorite, so he told me to stock up because they'd be going out of business unless the company had a large infusion of cash.”