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Sitting on the edge of her bed, I pressed my palm against Katie’s bump firmly. Desperation misted my eyes, blurring her tight, shallow features. She lookedsodifferent than in that Viking show she’d been in... and why?
“You let go, so m-maybe I can... too...” My voice crackled harshly, and my whisper was overly loud in the small, quiet room. Laying down to spoon Katie, I held her bump firmly, and the drumming in my ears intensified when she turned away from me. Stiffening, my heart hammered hard, but she grabbed my hand in her sleep and pulled up her knees. Smiling a little, I rested my head on my arm as relief sloshed through my chest.
“You should try therapy.”
Rubbing Katie’s bump, my palm tingled at the very faint pushback, and I closed my eyes. Julia didn’t say anything else, but she really didn’t need to. I tried and tried, and I hurt, and I put so much effort into trying... but, in the end, I couldn’t sayhowI tried. What was I trying for? Was what I was trying to do even helping, or was it hindering?
I didn’t know the answers to any of those questions. I was so hellbent on hoping that Mason would go away if we just stayed here long enough. My relationship with Katie had deteriorated to this point because I tried to ignore her, thinking everything always resolved itself.
If I didn’t acknowledge how much this was hurting her... when we got home, we could pretend that none of this happened.
But I was wrong. No one would clean up after me anymore. There was no existential janitor that’d come empty the bin, making sure it never overflowed. There was no Audra for my relationship, telling me what I had to do today and when.
“I’m not going to try anymore. I’m going tobebetter. I promise.” Burying my face in her hair, I held Katie’s frail form to me and rubbed her belly. Taking a deep breath, I thought I imagined, for a second, her relaxing against me.
ChapterNine
KATIE
“Let’s go outside.” Brandon smiled at me so sweetly.
I nodded dully as he helped me sit up. He seemed so happy that I didn’t deny him, and my abdomen tightened around my baby. Moving was difficult, and I closed my eyes briefly as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
“I’m hoping you’ll eat something. I figured the eggs bothered you, so I thought— yogurt?”
“Sure.”
Julia was right. Giving inwasa lot easier than fighting. Brandon’s touch didn’t burn my skin, and the wheelchair was more comfortable than I remembered. It was almost pleasant, the breeze as he turned and wheeled me out of the room drying the sweat that dampened my face and neck.
But I knew it was simply... superficial.
“I was hoping to talk about what to do when we get back home.”
My throat tightened at that, and I nodded absently. Brandon wheeled me toward the main entrance of the place in relatively silence. My mind was quiet, and a light ringing assaulted my ears when I closed my eyes.
When we get back home...Brandon was going to divorce me. He’d said as much. What possible other way was I supposed to take that other than how it was? I ruined Brandon’s life before we’d even met, and I didn’t blame him for wanting to get rid of me. If I’d just done the normal thing and gotten some therapy or something, we would’ve never gotten into this situation.
Part of me wondered if all those good times, all those beautiful moments when I washappy, was just me lying to myself. What if Brandon and I weren’t going to last even without Mason’s intervention? What if, like Julia said, I was caught up in the whirlwind of my first ever relationship, and what I felt wasn’t built for longevity?The honeymoon phase, right?
A gust of warm air swept me out of my own head, and I blinked hard as Brandon wheeled me out the door. The nighttime sky seemed to stretch on forever, the stars twinkling brighter than I’d ever seen them. My heart stuttered as I craned my neck, my view unobstructed by any bright lights.
“It’s beautiful.” My whisper floated away on the slight breeze, the smell of the ocean slithering up my nose when I inhaled deeply. Now, I could get why Brandon thought this island could be a great vacation spot. If only I hadn’t been stuck inside, like a rat in a cage, only allowed out when someone else decided ‘eh, I suppose I should’.
“Yeah.” Rolling me over through the gentle glow of low, blue lights that illuminated the courtyard, Brandon stopped in front of a pair of chairs to lock my wheels. Sitting in front of me, he grabbed a little cooler from between them, and I frowned as I tore my eyes off the sky. “So... you were right.”
My cheek twitched at that, and Brandon fiddled with the yogurt top even as a harsh sigh escaped him. Very carefully, he scraped the yogurt clinging to the top against the cup, staring down at it under tightly knit brows.
“About my dad. There’s a lot that I hate him for. For what he did to my mom. For having me for the sole purpose of running his business. For dying before I got a chance to know him, even if he was a scumbag. But... the fact of the matter is that... he was never my dad. He’s a ghost that lords over me and has for far too long.” Reaching into the cooler to produce a spoon, Brandon pursed his lips thinly as his eyes met mine. Propping his elbows on his knees, he sighed heavily with pain and regret shimmering in his eyes. “I could’ve done so many things with what happened to your father, but I didn’t. I should’ve stopped Bert. I could’ve contacted your mother and figured out some sort of restitution, even though I know it would never be enough. I should’ve put even half as much effort into the death of your father as I did trying to stop it from destroying my company.”
My heart throbbed painfully with each beat as Brandon paused, his jaw working furiously. Twirling the spoon between his fingers, he tore his eyes off me to scoop up some yogurt and hold it up for me. My stomach grumbled viciously, and my mouth watered as I opened it. Relief shimmered in the maelstrom of his gaze, his lips quirking up slightly.
“When it happened... I blamed Berthold. I knew he wasn’t a good businessman, and a lot of his tactics were shady, but they’d never resulted in someone dying. Not that I know of. I told myself ‘well, it’s finally happened’. But, at the time, I still felt this sense of inferiority to him. Even now, I feel inferior to him, even though I’m calling him out more. At the time of the deal with your dad, I didn’t feel comfortable with so many people involved. The weight of several hundred people, all their families... I was still very much that guy who was brought on to a position only because my dad pulled the strings, not because I earned it.” Brandon’s voice dipped as he paused, and his knee started bouncing wildly. “You know that feeling you had when you first auditioned for a part and you’re waiting to hear back? I remember feeling such anxiety over it— the time when I heard your father had died and the investigation that followed. The fallout wasenormousfor me. My Board almost dissolved, fighting over what to do. Most of them wanted Berthold sacked, and I agreed, but I also felt like I needed him. He acted like it wasn’t his fault, and we played the blame game back and forth. I signed the papers, but he created them knowing full well what he was doing.”
He held out the spoon again, his hand trembling slightly, and I took the bite. The yogurt was tasteless as every neuron in my brain focused on his words. A cold sweat broke out under my clothes, and Brandon licked his lips heavily.
“The Board can’t fire Berthold. It’s in his contract. At the time, he was a few years away from being basically a consultant, and he would retire when he felt like it unless something egregious made keeping him on impossible. I spent hours and hours trying to convince him to just quietly go away, but he likes power. After that incident, I started really keeping track of what he was doing so that if I ever needed to, I could back myself up. For almost a decade, he just did stuff with absolutely no regard for the consequences. Even after so long, I always foolishly hoped Bert would go away on his own.”
“Why are you telling me this?” My soft question pulled a grimace from Brandon, and he wordlessly held out the yogurt and spoon. When I took them, our fingers touched, and his were warm and sent goosebumps surging up my arms. “What happened?”
