He ignores me and continues talking. “After you changed, we apologized, and you told us we were never going to be friends or get along. You said we were too much for you and the only reason you were here was because you transferred from Drayton Hills. But when Carter died, you fed us, you watched cartoons with us that first night and every night after that for weeks. We never said anything, because we thought we were too cool for it, and you didn’t either.” He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “But you helped us anyway. Because that’s what family does, Branson. We can hold grudges, but we can also be there for each other when we need it, and you’ve always been that person to us, even when you pretend you’re not. You’re always there. No matter what.”
When he finishes, I realize I’ve been breathing normally again. He was distracting me. My hands tremble, but I can feel my body slowly settling back to normal. I take in a deep breath, my chest shaking on the exhale.
“Thank you,” I whisper. He smiles wide, his dimples popping out.
“I never really thanked you for what you did, but you should know how grateful we are. We wouldn’t have made it through without you.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, scratching the back of my neck.
“It is,” he says sincerely. I sit on the stool again and Miles follows, leaning against the counter. I drop my head into my hands, grateful when I feel my heart rate slow to a steady thrum. “Can I . . . ask what’s going on?”
I swallow, nodding before lifting my head up. “I just realized I don’t want to work for my dad’s company anymore and I panicked.”
“Oh, shit, wow.”
“Yeah.” I let out a soft laugh. “It shouldn’t really be this big of a deal. I think I’ve known for a while that I’ve never really been interested in the fashion industry. You’ve seen how I dress. I’m not exactly the most stylish person ever.”
Miles laughs too. “But you’re, like, a millionaire.”
“My dad’s a millionaire.” I shrug, tugging at the cuffs of my shirt. “I think I’ve had this idea in my head of what my future would look like for so long, but now I’m seeing it differently.”
“Yeah? And what does it look like now?”
“I don’t know. Blurry, but clearer.”
Miles looks at me for a beat, his eyes narrowed for all of five seconds before he bursts out laughing. “I have no idea what that means, but I guess it doesn’t matter.” He clasps me on the shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, Branson.”
Trying new things hasn’t always been easy for me. Even though I’ve wanted the SEI for years, actually doing it is going to be a whole other thing to adjust to. But I know it’s going to be worth it in the end. It’s going to open up so many other doors that I wouldn’t get by working for B&Co all summer. I might not know where I’m going to end up, but I need this.
“I know what will cheer you up,” Miles says, and I turn to see he’s got the fridge door open, scanning its contents. That’s never a good sign. “How about I cook something for lunch? I make a mean chicken salad.”
I grimace. “For both of our sakes, I’ll stick to the cooking. You stick to doing the dishes.”
He turns back around, grinning. “Good idea.”
I spend the rest of the evening with Miles, talking about things that don’t really matter. He tells me about how the hockey season has been going, and I find myself more invested than I’ve been before. We talk about the summer and what our plans are. He’s planning to take Wren on a trip somewhere and I give him some recommendations on where to go. He tells me that he thinks I should go for the SEI and not worry about my future too much, and I believe him. I know I need to learn how to let go of control and try something new. Which is not something I’m very good at, but I think I might try it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: SCARLETT
“Do you really think we need the entire watermelon?”
I shrug, dropping it into the shopping cart. “Probably.”
Wren scowls at me over her shoulder from in front of the cart and I laugh, nudging it forward into her ass.
We’ve driven to the bigger grocery store in town, a good forty-five minutes from our apartment, but it’s always worth it. I needed an excuse to leave the house today after being cooped up in either the library or the apartment for the last month, and this is always a good day out. I feel like I’m in produce heaven here, and I love being able to see all the different kinds of fruit and veggies before picking out the best ones.
“I feel like we enjoy grocery shopping way more than the average person,” I say, and Wren walks beside me as we turn down another aisle.
“I think we enjoy it a normal amount.”
“I quite literally look forward to this every week,” I admit.
Wren giggles, her greenish-blue eyes twinkling. “Me too.”
We make our way through our list, putting all the essentials in the cart before we get to the bakery section. Wren and I stand there for way too long, trying to decide if we want a tray bake, brownies, or cookies. All options sound great, and none of us have time to bake anything from scratch. We exchange a look before getting all three and shoving them into the cart. We deserve a treat.
“Can I ask you something?” I say to Wren as she places Kennedy’s favorite cereal into the cart.
