Page 150 of The Route to You

He raised a brow. “Wednesday?”

“Mom’s birthday, Ky.” Her voice was a little flat, but not the lecturing tone Kyle expected.

Oh . . . fuck.

He winced. “I forgot.”

“Yeah, she noticed. Called me.” She leaned back, putting a pillow behind her lower back. “She’s not mad. Hurt, but that’s reasonable.” Elle clasped her hands. “But she is a little worried.”

Of course.

He didn’t answer, and Elle continued, “Kyle, I know I wasn’t the nicest and most supportive about everything with Sloan when she came back . . . and honestly, I’m sorry. I really am. Call me a protective older sister, but I worry about you. We all worry about you in our own ways, because that’s what you do when you love someone and you see them spinning out in ways you don’t completely understand⁠—”

“Spinning out?” He cocked a look at her. “Now my decision to be with Sloan is me spinning out?”

Elle flinched. Maybe because he’d implied that he and Sloan were in a relationship now—or maybe from the hardness of his tone. “No,” she said softly. “It started long before Sloan came into your life again. Just . . . like you were trying to fill some hole by doing the next most dangerous thing. Taking risks that made us all uncomfortable. Granny even noticed it. And I’m not just misremembering a conversation. She wrote a whole paragraph about you to me in her letter she left me in her will.”

Kyle stiffened, holding his breath.

He’d been avoiding dealing with Granny almost as much as he’d been avoiding the back bedroom.

Elle reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded letter.

He felt heat prickling his neck. “You don’t have to read it to me⁠—”

“I just want to read the part she wrote about you.” She unfolded it and then read in a low voice, “‘ Ellie girl, I have one favor to ask you. Take care of my Kyle for me. He’s been going through something lately, and I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about it the way I'd like. And maybe I will get to before you get this—but it would probably mean me having to go to Bora Bora or something. Ha! Wouldn’t that be grand?’”

Kyle’s fingers tightened around the empty glass, and he stared down at it.

“‘ Sadly,’” Elle continued, “‘I think my health seems to be going downhill and a trip overseas might be out for the time being. But the truth is, Kyle’s a lot like Grandpoppy. And that man, he was perfect in all ways but one: he took too much on his shoulders. Most people don’t see that problem growing, except all that weight is like a sore on the soul that starts forming a callus. And pretty soon, a callused soul goes numb and forgets a lot—to protect themselves, most especially. So, help him to remember. Otherwise, I might have to come back and haunt you.’”

Elle folded the letter and ran her fingers along the seam, meeting Kyle’s eyes. “So, yeah. That’s what she said to me, anyway.”

He cocked a brow. “Help me to remember? Remember what?”

“I think she meant to stop taking so much on your shoulders.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Kyle,” she said in a low voice. She locked eyes with him. “I was hoping maybe you could help me with that part.”

Clenching and unclenching his jaw, Kyle shook his head. “I guess that’s the problem. No one knows what the hell Granny was talking about except Granny. And since we can’t ask her, we’re out of luck.”

“Well . . . what did her letter to you say? Maybe there’s a clue there.”

A few beats of silence passed, Kyle breathing so slowly that each pull of air hurt. How could he tell Elle he’d never read his grandmother’s last words to him? Never honored her wishes with her ashes . . .

Prioritized everything else.

He released a slow breath, avoiding her gaze. “I never actually read it.”

Elle’s chin jerked up with shock. “You . . . didn’t read it?”

“I meant to—” He rubbed his chin. “Look, don’t get mad at me. I’m going to tell you the whole story, and I deserve your anger, but maybe you’ll understand if you hear it.”

“Haven’t you ever heard you’re not supposed to upset new mothers?” Elle scowled.

“Yeah . . .” He set his feet down on the ground, any ounce of cockiness long gone. Slowly, he recounted how Sloan’s escape from Evan had gotten in the way of his plans with Granny’s ashes, how he thought the urn had been lost, and how Sloan had collected it and brought it back to Nashville with her.