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“Yeah. Yeah, I was drinking,” I admit at last, tipping my head back to hide how that admission hurts me, “all I did was drink after...after I told you to go off without me. I regretted it and I resented you for doing it. I hated myself for not going with you, for not giving us a go outside of Harmony Hollow. That night...I knew that night it was really over. I knew I had fucked up bringing her and... I got wasted. I... I wrecked my jeep and....I was fucked up for a long time after it. I never wanted you to know. About any of it.”
“Oh, baby,” she whimpers, her tears breaking me as they streak down her beautiful face, “I wish you had told me. I wish you had come to me. I would have taken care of you. Why didn’t they tell me? They kept it from me, didn’t they?” I know she means Connor and Hailee, but I don’t want to blame this on them.
“I begged them not to. Couldn’t have you blame yourself. I was fucking ashamed, Paisley. I am still ashamed. I walked away from that accident a little beat up...what if you had been with me? What if I had hurt you? Or someone else? I am just like my father, and I hate it, but I don’t know how to be better. I failed you so many times, because I know I am no better than him. How could I ask you to spend your life with someone like that? Someone I fucking hated. How could I do that?”
“You don’t do that,” she counters, brushing her lips over mine, “be better than him by letting me help. By letting me know what you need to not be him. I would have given up everything to be here with you and...” I push her away and shake my head.
“Don’t you see that is what I don’t want? For you to give something up for me. To sacrifice for me. Not when I can never offer you the life you deserve,” I rant, gripping her neck and tipping her head back, willing her to see how hard this is for me to admit.
“Don’t you think I deserve you? To have the man I love—only man I ever loved and will ever love—at my side, no matter what or where life takes us? That is what I fucking deserve. You just decided to deny me that out of some self-serving selflessness!” She pushes at me until we’re standing there glaring at one another, both of us out of words.
I cannot ask her to do this again. This time, I won’t ask her to let go or tell her lies the way I did last time. Now I need to be the one to do it. It takes me a moment before I have the strength to do what I know I need to. Bending my head, I brush my lips over hers just once.
When I walk out of my own house—that I bought hoping to build a life with her—I know that when I return, she will be gone.
CHAPTER 13
Paisley
* * *
When Bran walks away this time, I know I am to blame.
Because as we talked about what we could and could not give up, I never made it easy on either of us. I never told him that there was nothing to give up this time. That I was staying right here in Harmony Hollow. That the gallery would be a stone’s toss from where he works every single day. I never tell him that from the upstairs office that I will call mine, I can look out and see his office.
Coming back from that meeting with a real site in mind and dates on the horizon, I was flying. Finding him waiting for me and ready to rumble sent me crashing. We love to fight, and sometimes it can be fun. Sometimes it can be hot. When we were younger and we would get jealous or miss each other, we would pick petty fights that always landed us in bed.
As those fights changed along with us, we got meaner. We would punish each other with our words and our childish behavior. We would stay away from each other for a few days—but a few days was all we could stand to be apart. How I lasted five years without him is still beyond my understanding.
And the truth is—I barely lasted all that time. A dozen times I thought about packing up and coming back home to him. Or calling him and begging him to come to me. I was too prideful. Too convinced that I had something out there waiting for me that I had to find. Now I realize he believed that too.
Believed it so wholly he had walked out of his own home hoping I would go out and find it.
“I need to go back,” I tell Hailee as we sip iced tea and watch Connor play with the kids.
“Of course, you need to go back,” Hailee replies before laughing with the kids when they giggle and chase their daddy.
Glancing over at her, I quirk a brow. “That’s it? No sage advice for your best friend? No telling me what I did wrong or how to do this right?” I press, tilting my head as she smiles at me.
“You love him,” she says it not like a question but a fact and I just nod, “and he loves you. You were both miserable while you were apart—you always were—and I told you before, you gave up. On yourself, on the two of you together, and even on us. I am still mad about that,” she pushes me with her hip, smoothing a hand over her belly, “only way to make that up to me is to promise you will be here this time. Here, with us, present, fighting for your happiness the way we know you can. The way we all have to,” her voice goes soft, and I close my eyes, thinking of the fight she had to put up.
Hailee had to fight for the fairytale she and Connor got together. They loved each other from the moment they met but he was older, labeled a bit of a manwhore, and they had plans set in motion for both of them. He would go to the NFL, she would go to the Olympics and win gold as an elite runner. When she got sick, those plans no longer mattered.
All that mattered is that they could fight together.
Just like they had plans, I had some of my own. Those plans had never included staying in my hometown and settling down with my best friend. But now I can’t think of anything else that makes more sense. That feels better than the thought of fighting for Bran and the life we could have together. The life we should have had together if I had not been so stubborn five years ago and put up a fight when he selflessly sacrificed our relationship for my plans.
“You make it sound so easy. Both of you make it look easy and I guess, it can be. It is so easy with me and Bran. It always was until one of us let doubt creep in. Usually, it was me,” I admit as I sigh, emptying my drink.
Five days ago, I came here a complete mess. When Bran walked out after our argument, I knew he wanted it to be final. I knew he did it so I could get mad and storm off and maybe not come back. And I did just that. I stormed off just like I always do, cursing him for not supporting me, for being jealous and childish instead of patient and understanding.
Today I have another meeting with Gabe and Brady, to talk about some of the artists I hope to feature when the gallery opens. They have started work on the gallery itself and tell me we should be open to visitors in a few months. While I should be excited, I can’t find it in me to be just yet—not until I know for sure one very specific visitor will be there with me opening night.
Part of me considered asking them if Crystal Cove was a better place for the gallery after all. When I was moping and miserable those first days after I left his place, I wanted to blame Bran for everything. Until I took a good look at all our fights and realized it was always me who walked away. Even if he got out of my way to walk, it was me who took the steps.
When I showed up on Hailee’s doorstep, she did not ask questions. She knows us well enough by now to know we had a fight and I walked away. It’s what I do. And since I left his place and have sat wallowing in my misery, I realize my misery is my own doing. Lots of our misery is my doing—because I was the first one to walk away.
Bran never gave up on us and he never ended things. He never walked away from me before. It was always me. Until this time—when I gave him no choice because I let him believe I had something better still out there waiting for me. Something he thinks I am still looking for.
