“Name?”

“Knox Nathaniel Wellington the Third,” I answer, feeling weird about saying my full name now that I’m back on my home turf. Charlie squeezes my thigh and gives me a reassuring smile.

The audio crackles before the voice responds. “I’m sorry; did you say Knox Nathaniel?”

Clearing my throat, I can’t help but be a dick. “Did I fucking stutter?’

Without another word, the gate opens, and I wind Evelyn up the driveway, shaking my head as I spy the limos, Ferraris, and other expensive-as-shit cars these people only drive to events like this. Parking the car, I’m wondering what the fuck I’m doing here, but Charlie grabs my hand, squeezing it.

“We can do this, Knox,” she tells me, and the thought that we’re a ‘we’ makes this whole thing bearable.

She gets out of the car before I can come open her door, but I stick my elbow out so she can entwine her arm in mine. Laughing at me, she pushes my arm down, grabbing my hand in hers, linking our fingers.

“We’re not that formal, Knox. Just because we’re here, let’s not forget who we are. Who you are, okay?”

I feel a wave of nostalgia wash over me when I enter my parents’ house. Part of me wants to turn around and get back in my car, fleeing back to Clarksville. But then Charlie squeezes my hand, letting me know that she’s right here with me.

Walking down the hallway, I look at the pictures on the wall. There are pictures of us all growing up, and when I get to the end, I stop abruptly and can’t help but be shocked as hell. All of our graduation pictures hang on the wall, and there’s a wedding picture of Branson and Megan, which I pass over quickly. But the last section of wall is all me. My Boot Camp graduation picture is there, and I can’t suppress the smile that comes to my face, knowing that I look like a fucking kid swimming in a uniform. There are framed newspaper clippings from awards and decorations ceremonies. And holy fuck, there’s even a framed timeline of all my promotions. How in the hell did they get all this? And why? I wonder how long they’ve been following my career. I honestly thought they’d just written me off, and I didn’t know any different because I never let Cohen talk about them.

The last picture is my undoing, and I have to swallow hard as I collect my bearings. It’s a photograph of me lying on a stretcher in Afghanistan, taken by Public Affairs when they flew me out of there. Moving in, I read the caption: “Local hero Knox Wellington being medevaced after the detonation of a roadside bomb. His current condition is unknown.”

I don’t even realize that Charlie’s beside me until I hear her gasp. Looking towards her, I see that she has tears in her eyes and her hand is covering her mouth.

“That’s you,” she says softly.

Pulling her into me, I press a kiss against her head. “That was me, babe. And I got through it. I’m here. With you, okay?” I ask, looking into her eyes to make sure she really is fine. We’ve never talked in depth about the incident, so this is the first time she’s really coming face to face with my job. I’m guessing it’s a shock to her.

Nodding, she presses her head against my chest, embracing me. I’m not sure who’s comforting whom right now, but it doesn’t really matter. Seeing that my family didn’t completely forget me is both painful and encouraging. Painful because I allowed myself to think the worst all these years, but encouraging because it makes me think that everything’s going to be fine.

I don’t know how long we stand there, and I’m about to pull away when a voice interrupts us.

“Knox? Is that really you?’ I still at hearing the voice of my mother, the one woman I thought would never betray me but ended up doing so anyway.

Turning around, I find myself face to face with her for the first time in eleven years and I don’t know what to feel. I’m wondering how I look to her. When I left home, I was a boy. Young, naïve, stupid. I’ve put on over forty pounds of muscle since joining the Army, and now that I’ve come home, I’m a man. It’s probably weird, but I stand up just a little bit taller, hoping to put the changes in me on display, letting her know I’m not some kid who can be pushed around anymore.

Taking a moment to study her, I realize she looks the same, but I guess that’s what money will do for you. Looking surprised to see me, she extends an arm then detracts it immediately.

“I…I didn’t think you’d actually come,” she whispers.

“I didn’t think I would either, but Cohen wanted me here. And well, I think I’m ready to let go of the past,” I tell her, pulling Charlie closer to me.

Surprising me, she reaches her hand out to my mom. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte Davenport, but most people call me Charlie,” she says, sending her an award-winning smile.

My mom takes Charlie’s hand, shaking it softly. “Amelia Wellington. It’s very nice to meet you, Charlie,” she says, surprising me that she’d use a nickname.

“Knox, can we speak privately?” Mom asks, and a sense of dread and apprehension washes over me. Might as well get this over with.

Charlie begins to back away, but I draw her in closer. “Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Charlie.” Mom nods, and motions for us to follow her.

She leads us to a remote den and closes the door. Sighing, she walks to the bar and pours herself a glass of brandy before motioning for us to sit. Taking a sip of her drink, she briefly closes her eyes before letting out a deep breath. She sits in an oversized chair and looks directly at me. My leg’s shaking, due to the nerves I’m feeling from wondering what she’s going to say. I’m not even sure at this point what I want her to say, what she could say to make everything fine between us. I’m worried it’s been too long, that we’re too far gone. Right now, the only thing keeping me from getting back in my car and going home is the girl sitting beside me.

“Knox…I have no idea where to start. I’m ashamed…so ashamed for far I let things go, for this division between us. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but you have to know that I am sorry for everything that happened. When you came home from the recruitment office and told us your plans, I lost it. You were always my sweetest boy, and the thought of you joining the military scared the hell out of me. It’d been less than a year since the September 11 attacks, and I couldn’t stand the idea that my child would be soon going off to war, which is why I broke down like I did. I should’ve let you explain at the time, and every day I pray I had, because I think I could have tried to understand why you needed to get away.” She pauses to take a sip of her brandy, swallowing hard, and I’m wishing I had one of those right about now. I don’t know what I was thinking was going to happen, but an apology didn’t even cross my mind, which is now reeling from her words. Words I didn’t even know I’d needed until she said them, but the moment I heard them, something—relief, maybe—washed over me. Years of pain and disappointment begin to fade away and I’m realizing that maybe it’s time to let go. Time to forgive.

Clearing my throat, I know I can be man enough to admit my part in this whole thing. “I should’ve explained. I know it was sudden, and it went against everything I’d been planning for my future, but I couldn’t get the words out. I already had the image of what they’d done engrained in my mind, and voicing what I saw, I just…” I trail off, not wanting to think about it. Charlie squeezes my hand, and when I look at her, she gives me a reassuring smile.

Nodding, my mother continues. “I understand that now. When you left, even after your father’s ultimatum, he and Branson convinced me that you were the one who left Megan and that you’d used your brother to make it sound like you were the wronged one. She even agreed that you two had been done before she began seeing him.”

“Bullshit. That’s not what happened,” I protest, more shocked that she believed their story but not surprised that Megan and Branson both lied about it.

A look of what I can only guess is shame crosses her face. “I didn’t know she was lying until Cohen told me that he’d overheard them talking about it. Then it was too late. You were gone, and I had no idea where you were. But I was so wrong, Knox, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. I should’ve known. From the moment you were born, you were my little sweetheart.” She pauses, and I’m reminded of all the times I spent as a kid helping her in the kitchen or listening to her cheer loud from the sidelines at my baseball games. Until Cohen came, I’d always been close with my mom, and I’m wondering how I forgot all those times.

She continues before I can dwell on it. “I knew you had the kindest heart out of all my boys and you would never hurt someone you loved. Instead I let myself believe them, and I was so wrong. And it’s been killing me ever since I found out the truth. I’ve missed out on so much of your life, all because of a lie. A lie I should’ve never believed in the first place.”

She bursts into tears, and it takes everything in me not to move to her, to let me comfort her, the way she did for me when I was little, but I’m just not ready. Sitting here, I can feel a burning sadness from knowing that if I hadn’t been a stubborn ass and forwarded my contact information every time I switched posts, maybe all of this would’ve been resolved years ago. Cohen was only eleven when I left home, and I’d send him random postcards without a return address. It wasn’t until he was fourteen that he tracked me down through email and we became brothers again. I made him promise not to tell my parents where I was, and as much as I know that it pained him to do so, he still kept my secret.