A/N

Thank you for all your yays, I'm glad you're all aboard this ship. Although that isn't to say the endgame is confirmed, you know how notorious I am at sinking ships. I'm just saying.

x Noelle

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

27

the one with the history

I KNEW IT wasn't shaping up to be a good day when an intern got my coffee wrong. To make matters worse, it was decaf. By four, I was nursing the most awful headache and couldn't wait to be done for the day.

Until I entered the lobby.

My eyes widened as I came to a halt. I hadn't seen or spoken to Miles since the day of the Riverton carnival, because it seemed like he needed some time to deal with the fallout. But now, I couldn't take my eyes off him. He stood with his hip propped against the counter as he texted; his suit jacket tucked under one arm and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled to his elbows. I knew he wasn't trying to look sexy or anything, but he sure as hell did just then.

"Miles, hey!" His head shot up at the sound of my voice. He straightened and ran a hand through his tousled hair. My smile widened. "What're you doing here?"

His cheeks pinked. "Actually, I wanted to ask if you'd like to go somewhere with me."

My eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yes, but only if you're done with work..."

"Oh, I'm definitely done!" I wasn't. There were fifteen minutes left to the end of my shift, but I hoped the night manager had already shown up for work. "One second, let me get my bag!"

I left him in the lobby and ducked into the nearby staff's room. Just as I'd expected, Betty was in the midst of pinning her name tag on when I entered the room. I convinced her to cover for me while I clocked out, to which she agreed.

"That hot piece of ass in the lobby?" She hummed appreciatively when I pointed to Miles through the tiny window. "Go get him, tiger, before I do."

I snorted as I imagined Miles's face if he heard that a sixty-year old woman had just called him a 'hot piece of ass'. "See you tomorrow," I called to Betty, as I grabbed my bag and headed off. Miles was exactly where I'd left him and he glanced up from his phone as I came up. I shot him a bright smile. "Let's go."

He followed me out of Sereinn and to his car parked in the driveway. "Don't you want to know where we're going?" he asked, as I climbed into the passenger's seat beside him.

"Surprise me. I know it's going to be somewhere I'll love."

His lips quirked. "Hold that thought."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"You know, I think you're right. I take back what I said earlier."

Miles kept his eyes on the road, but I noticed his wry smile. "Yeah?"

I grinned back at him. We'd been driving for awhile now and had made small talk on the ride over. Just as I'd expected, he'd choked when I told him what Betty had said. He'd blushed and sputtered something about her being wrong. But I'd told him to accept the compliment because, yeah, he had one hell of a hot ass.

"Yes," I said. "I was expecting a nice dinner, but I'd hoped it wouldn't be at a crematorium."

"You know where we're headed?"

"Of course. How long has it been since you've visited your mom and Hale's niches?"

"Too long." His voice was low; his grip tight around the steering wheel. "I kept thinking I had to when I came back but... Coming back to Caverly has already been hard enough. Talking to Dad; dealing with all that Riverton shit. Even meeting you," he added, a fraction quieter than before. "It's not been the easiest couple of weeks and, sometimes, I feel like I can barely catch my breath."

I fell silent at his words. He didn't need my pity or sympathy, but I did know how hard he had it since his return. I continued to mull over his words even as we pulled up to the building. Cemeteries and crematoriums had always spooked me, so I stayed close to Miles's side and followed him to where his mom's niche was. Hale's was diagonally opposite, because no empty slots were available in their mom's row when he'd died.

"My dad must've been here recently," Miles mused, as he looked at the two bouquets of white lilies and carnations. "I wonder how often he drops by."

"Actually, the carnations were mine." Miles turned to me and I shrugged. "I visit about once every three or four months? I know it might not be appropriate but... I thought I'd visit on your behalf. I left one stalk for Hale too. He's not my favorite person, but still."

Miles fell silent as he studied first his mom's niche, then his brother's. I shifted on my feet with unease. Had I overstepped my boundaries? Did exes still care for each other's parents even when they no longer saw each other?

When another few seconds passed and he still didn't say a word, I stepped forward to pick up the carnations. "I'm sorry, I'll just get rid—"

His fingers closed around my other wrist. "Leave it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I..." He let out a sigh. "Look, I know we stopped dating a long time ago. But I still appreciate you doing this."

"It's no trouble at all." I returned the flowers to their place and looked back at him. "Do you need me to wait in the car? I know you probably want to be alone with them and—"

"No." His grip tightened, before he seemed to realize that he was still holding on to me. He glanced down, then released me and fell a step back. "No. Stay, please."

"Of course."

He seemed satisfied by my response and turned to sit on the nearby bench. I settled down next to him. For awhile, we sat in silence, save for the occasional tap of my heel against the floor.

"It's strange," he said at last. "I keep trying to think of one significant moment to define my family. But all I can come up with are those dinners we used to have every night. Dad would sit at the head of the table, with Hale on his right, Mom on his left and me next to Mom. I don't even remember how those dinners used to go. I just remember that we had dinner, that's all."

"You know what I remember most from my childhood?" He raised his eyebrows at me and I smiled. "Wavelength. I remember Dad working the coffee machine, Mom cooking, and Ean and I serving the line. I don't think it's the significant moments that we remember in retrospect. It's the routine ones that we do. The ones that mean the least to us when they're happening, but mean the most to us when they're gone."

"You're right, of course. It's just..." he trailed off and swallowed hard. "Sometimes, I wish I could remember more. If I knew back then that Mom and Hale would be gone, I would've spent every minute while they were alive just...remembering. Memorizing everything. Forgetting nothing."

"I know. And, hey, you probably don't hear this much, but I think they're lucky to have you. Your dad, your mom, even..." I stopped and gestured to the niche behind us.

"Hale?"

It took every effort in me not to make a face. "You're a better brother to him than he ever was to you, that's all I'll say."

Miles quirked a faint smile. "I know you're the only one in this whole town who doesn't worship him. And sure, he never stood up for me. He never stopped his friends from bullying me. Hell, he barely even told anyone that I was his brother. But—" Miles held a finger up when I opened my mouth to argue. "—he was still my brother."

"Family isn't a birthright, it's a privilege. And that's a title that you have to earn."

"He did. Before my mom died, she made Hale promise to look after me. Dad was absent a lot, so it was Hale who made breakfast for me. He used to bandage me up when I came back after getting into a fight with one of his friends. And he was the one who bought me my first drink."

"I remember." Miles had told me this before. In fact, it was one of the first things I'd learnt when I first met him. "Budweiser, sometimes Svedka. You two used to drink up on the roof."

"He used to live in one of the halls on campus, but he'd come back for the weekends because Dad told him to. We didn't talk much, but occasionally, he'd ask about my plans for the future or whether I was dating anyone. In those years, I realized that he was still my brother. I may not have liked him...I may even have hated him a little. But for awhile, he was the only family I had."

"Actually, you had someone else," I said softly. Miles shot me a surprised look and I offered him a faint smile. "You know, I saw your dad twice before in this very place. He sat exactly where we are now. I left before he saw me, but that was when I realized he and my dad aren't that different. Ean told me that when I moved out of our parents', Dad used to go to my room and sit on my bed for hours on end. Looking at my old photographs or my awful report cards. Just missing me—even though I was only a phone call away."

Miles didn't say a word. But he didn't seem upset when I'd brought up his dad, so I took that as a sign to continue.

"I'm just saying that all parents—good parents, at least—love their children. It might not seem that way because, sometimes, they get lost. And the love they have for their kids get buried way under all that other stuff. But that love is still there. And if you realize how much your dad has always loved you, you'll never feel as alone as you think you are."

For a while, Miles didn't say anything. I began to wonder if I'd somehow hit a raw nerve when he cleared his throat. "Funny you should bring him up. Because I just spoke with my dad two days ago."

Two days ago. I'd spoken to Mr Callaghan the weekend before. I bit my lip, suddenly anxious. "You did?"

"Yes. He mentioned something about how my ex-girlfriend was the only one who dared to throw his mistakes in his face."

"I didn't throw anything! I mean, maybe metaphorically, but—"

"Darcy." His unexpected use of my name stopped me. When I met his gaze, his was frank and open; a tiny smile playing on his lips. His utterly kissable lips. Also lips that can do much more than just... Okay, focus. "Thank you. I didn't know how to get through to him, so I'm glad you did. I needed...someone on my side, for once."

"I'm always on your side, you know that."

"I do now." Had I imagined it, or had his eyes darted down to my mouth too? It lasted for a split second, before he looked away. "Anyway, I'm having breakfast with him this weekend at Angie's. He says we've plenty to talk about—Riverton, my time abroad, even Mom."

My smile widened. "That's good! I'm glad. And I know this is a lot to ask, but promise me you'll try to get along with your dad. He means well, and I can tell you still care a lot about him."

His blueish-grey eyes, much like the calm sky after a storm, met mine. "I promise."

It was the fourth promise he'd made to me. And much like all the others he'd kept before, I knew without a doubt that he'd keep this one too.