Page 109 of Wild Surrender

When I first met Eric, I thought he’d found me. Rescued me from a life I’d already decided would be small and contained. I’d convinced myself I was destined for quiet sacrifice, raising Hunter alone, preparing for the day he’d outgrow me.

But truth was, we found each other.

We’d both been wandering. Both terrified of who we were, and what we were doing. Fear had been our compass, pointing us toward safety instead of happiness.

Even now, dancing in his arms at our wedding reception, doubt still whispered. Did we really know where we were headed? Would old instincts resurface when things got difficult?

Maybe they would. Life had a way of humbling even the best plans. Eric had always said that. Control was never guaranteed.

The difference now was that we weren’t drifting. We were choosing.

Dad’s business had been my lifeline, even if some clients still looked twice when they realized their contractor had breasts. Ridiculous, but I was building something, piece by piece.

Eric never treated my ambition like an inconvenience or a threat. He stood behind it fully, offering support without making it about himself. There was strength in that, in the quiet way he made space for me to grow.

And he’d grown too.

Watching him step into his role at Copper Ridge Resort changed the way I saw him. The resort carried his family’s name, but the marketing position hadn’t been handed over out of obligation. They’d recognized what I’d always known. He had creative vision, and discipline. The ability to lead without overpowering.

He earned it the way he earned everything else, with focus and follow-through.

Hunter’s preteen sarcasm could cut glass now, but he was thriving here in Copper Ridge. He lived for architecture how-to videos, skateboard tricks, and the ridiculous dog we’d caved and bought him.

Best of all, he had two father figures who actually showed up. Even Dylan was trying, though Eric still had to nudge him sometimes.

And Caleb. Sweet, fierce Caleb, who’d stared down cancer and taught us what it meant to truly live. Without him, without Dad, Eric and I might never have collided at all.

Two lost souls, finding home in each other.

As Eric spun me slowly, I closed my eyes and let gratitude flood through me. We’d found love in our darkest moment, when everything was falling apart. That love had become our map, showing us not just tomorrow, but how to treasure today.

We still took life one day at a time, only now it was to savor each precious moment.

Together.

Caleb

Jamie looked incredible in her wedding dress. More stunning than the day I’d met her two years ago, if that was even possible.

Eric stood beside her beaming like the happiest guy on the planet. Lucky bastard.

Together, they were enough to make even the coldest heart melt. The love and devotion radiating between them was almost disgusting. But only because what they had was so damn perfect it could make nearly anyone jealous.

And I had been jealous. Of Eric, mostly.

I’d convinced myself I was in love with Jamie. Watching them together had eaten away at my heart as diligently as cancer had eaten away at my body.

It hadn’t taken long to realize that as perfect as Jamie was, she was perfect for my brother, not me. Those feelings I’d clung to so desperately? They’d had everything to do with my near-death experience and nothing to do with her.

Being fourteen and thinking I was dying had made me desperate to experience everything possible. Since my body couldn’t handle daring adventures, my mind and heart had done all the exploring instead. I’d been grasping for feelings that weren’t really there.

Two years later, any lingering jealousy came from wanting what they had—that type of love—not from wanting her specifically.

Being cancer-free still felt surreal. Sometimes I forgot my lifespan had been miraculously expanded, thanks to Eric and those doctors.

The transplant had saved my life, but watching my brother find his happy ever after had saved my hope for the future.

So instead of jealousy, I chose gratitude. I was alive. Eric had remembered to credit me in his wedding speech. And I could still appreciate how incredible Jamie looked in that dress.

Most of all, I was grateful for the type of love that existed in storybooks. I was glad it was real. And I was happy as hell that my brother had managed to find it—even if he didn’t believe in fairy tales.

I did.

Dylan

Eric Alexander could go fuck himself.