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I had insisted on going back to my apartment. I had too much to do, and I wasn't interested in spending the day in the icy penthouse. Surprisingly, Brandon didn't fight me on it, and actually asked if he could come with me. It seemed he really did hate that apartment as much as he said. Or, I also suspected, he could feel the fissures the last few days had caused and was trying to compensate.
Beside him, I shrugged while I watched Boston passing through the tinted window. "Does it matter now?"
Brandon reached for my hand. "I should have asked first. I'm sorry."
I sighed, but let him toy with my fingers. "It's fine, I guess. It will be nice to get to know Annabelle and Christoph. Maybe I can convince Janette and Maurice to let me take them somewhere, just them and me. They seem to be on a pretty tight leash."
Brandon nodded. "I bet they'd like that."
"I still can't believe you invited them over to your house," I teased. "My weirdo mother and her robot husband."
"I just want to help," Brandon said. He still held my hand as he massaged his thumbs around the bones. "They're your family, and they want to know you." His blue eyes were wide. "Not everyone is as lucky as you, Red."
I watched him for a moment, letting his words sink in. Brandon gleamed so brightly among most people, it was easy to forget the dark circumstances he came from. His mother, who had died of a drug overdose when he was just a teenager, had neglected him so much that he had been in and out of group homes for most of his childhood. His father, an abusive man, had been in jail multiple times and was currently serving a twenty-year sentence. The only real family that Brandon had were the Petersens, and despite Susan's attempts to be close, Ray wasn't exactly a big ball of warmth.
"You're right," I said. "It's a nice idea. It will be fun."
"We'll make a long weekend of it," Brandon said. "You can bring your stuff and study, and I wouldn't mind you seeing the place again before I have to sell it."
The reminder of the divorce proceedings settled a pit again in my stomach.
"So Miranda...she's still going ahead with everything as planned?" I asked.
A part of me hoped that maybe this sudden invitation, and Brandon's recent willingness to accompany me openly everywhere, was a sign that things had improved. Maybe Miranda had simply accepted that he was moving on. Maybe she was ready to move on too.
But Brandon heaved a big sigh and pulled me into his side. "I don't really want to talk about it right now," he admitted before pressing a kiss into the top of my head. "She's...making things difficult again. I'm not sure exactly to what extent."
My heart sank. I knew it was too good to be true. I curled my fingers around the crisp cotton of his shirt and inhaled his fresh, warm scent.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm making things more difficult for you."
He pulled back so he could look directly at me. His blue eyes were fathomless, even in the dimmed lighting in the car. My clenched stomach eased a little.
"Don't be," he said. "I'm not."
As he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, I conceded. I could be stressed. I could be fearful. But I couldn't be sorry now. Not for us. Not ever.
~
