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But Garrett isn't finished yet, his words like a relentless barrage of verbal blows. "Fine, don't listen to me," he snaps, his tone dripping with disdain. "But don't come crying to me when she leaves you high and dry. This is the end of you and me. You’re letting a pussy get between us, but then, you’ve never been a good brother anyway.”
I snort, mostly in anger though I try to make it sound like I find his remarks amusing. “You’re one to start making accusations. Breanna is here to stay and you can get over it. You can stop contacting her too. If I hear that you’ve called her, messaged her, even thought about her, I’ll find you and make you regret it.”
“Like I would want anything to do with her… or you.”
With that final barb, Garrett hangs up the phone, leaving me seething with frustration and resentment. I take a moment to compose myself, my mind racing with conflicting emotions.
It’s frustrating that Breanna was involved with someone so negative, and worst of all, that person is my brother. I see what she means now about how manipulative he is. He has a way of twisting things that make you start to doubt everything you know. But I refuse to let him do that about Breanna.
I block his number and delete our brief chain of texts.
It doesn’t feel like enough.
As I stare down at my phone, a sense of unease settles over me like a dark cloud. I need to do something more, to show Breanna my support, but I’m not sure what else I can do.
I look through the glass door inside and see that Jaxon is still happily entertaining himself by making towers of blocks crash down.
“Breanna,” I say, reaching toward her, my hands resting gently on her shoulders. “Garrett is an asshole. But he’s gone. That’s the last time he’ll be able to contact me, and I suggest you block him too. If I had known it was him calling this morning, I wouldn’t have suggested you answer it. He’s poisonous, and…”
But Breanna is shaking her head. A lone tear leaks down her cheek, and I reach out on instinct to rub it away.
“It wasn’t Garrett,” she finally says, her voice so soft that I have to lean closer to really hear her.
I frown, my eyebrows wrinkling together. “Who was it then?”
I imagine a string of ex-boyfriends berating Breanna and bringing her down.
“The bank,” she tells me in an equally quiet voice. “They’re going to foreclose on my parents’ home.”
My heart sinks as Breanna's words sink in. Foreclosure. The weight of the situation hangs heavy in the air, and I can feel a surge of empathy for her predicament. How could I have been so blind to the struggles she's been facing?
"Breanna, I'm so sorry," I say, my voice laced with genuine concern. "I had no idea things had gotten this bad for you."
Breanna offers me a weak smile, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "It's been a rough few months," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.
She swallows and looks around, focusing on a fern in the corner of the porch as she tells me things about her that I had no idea about. “I don’t have a brother. That was a lie, what I told you earlier.”
The seed of distrust that Garrett tried to sow in me prickles in interest. She lied to me? Why is she admitting it now? But I remain silent as she continues.
“When my parents died a few months ago, they left me everything. And everything was… a house filled with crap and… all their bills. And they’ve racked up a lot of debt. I just didn’t realize that any of it was on the house. I didn’t realize. I should have… but I just didn’t think. They hadn’t paid for at least two months before they died, and I didn’t pay anything. I…”
I reach out and gently squeeze her hand, a silent gesture of support and understanding. I can’t imagine losing my parents, even though I’m not close to them, and inheriting their debt. "You don't have to face this alone," I assure her, determination coursing through my veins. "We'll figure something out."
Breanna's eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, I can see the glimmer of hope flickering within them. "You... you would help me?" she asks, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Of course," I reply without hesitation. "You're not just my employee, Breanna. You're a part of our family. And family takes care of each other."
Breanna's expression softens, and I can see the gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Harrison," she says, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without your support. All I need is to be paid early, I swear. This week’s payment would go toward the house. I would have to push back on the payment plan for the credit cards, but they can wait a few days. Next week’s would go toward that, then…”
I give her a reassuring smile, silently vowing to do everything in my power to help her through this difficult time. My mind is already racing with potential solutions.
As our fingers lace together, I see a lightness in Breanna that hasn’t been there since she first saw Garrett in my house. “I’ll figure things out for you. Do you know what your mortgage payments are? How far behind exactly? The total amount due?”
Breanna nods, a sense of relief washing over her features. " I can get you the information,” she promises. “I think I saw a piece of paper from the bank. I just have to find it. Actually, I can show you the online account. I just figured out how to make that work. But… I only have two days until they start foreclosure.” Breanna looks away, like she’s sure this will deter me from helping her.
But it doesn’t. It only makes me realize how much she really needs someone in her corner. “Two days is enough time. Get me the login information. I’ll figure things out from there.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.
