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Brandon looked up with a shy smile that had me working very hard not to launch across the couch. “Eggplant parm,” he said softly. “With extra mozzarella. You?”
“Matzo ball soup,” I replied. “The kind my bubbe makes, or from the B & H if you can’t get her recipe.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Um, okay.”
We blinked at each other, unable to fight the heat growing between us.
“Right,” I said, finally forcing myself to look away. At the wall. The bland furniture. Anything but those earnest baby blues. “Continue.”
Brandon sighed, obviously ready to be done with the story. “Well, that was pretty much that. I was thirty-four, eleven years into a sham marriage, and ready to live my own damn life. I asked Miranda for a divorce, but she said no. We’ve been fighting on and off since then, but I hadn’t pressed the matter until recently. We, ah, were supposed to have our final mediation with the lawyers on Monday.” Brandon looked up with a particularly forlorn expression. “She was going to sign the papers.”
I sighed and hugged my blanket closer. It was obvious why he wouldn’t just go to court with it. Aside from the fact that it would drag both their names through the mud, there was always the risk that Miranda would withdraw her alibi. Though the statute of limitations had run out on the charges of assault, the damage it would do to Brandon’s reputation—not to mention any hope of taking Sterling Ventures public—was likely insurmountable. Plus, there was also the probability that he would be charged with giving a false statement or even perjury.
And just when things were about to be finished, she walked in on us. Talk about shit luck. I looked at the divorce papers, creased and now rippling as the edges dried out.
“The deal that Kieran was working on…” I murmured, a light suddenly dawning on me. I looked up. “She was really pissed!”
Brandon nodded ruefully, following my logic. “Yeah. She’s mad because I haven’t been playing nice lately.”
“Because of me?”
My voice was small. I didn’t want to be the reason he was getting into trouble again. And combined with my family’s issues…
“Because of us,” Brandon said just as softly. “You make me believe I can have what Ray and Susan have. You make me believe I can have love, Skylar, real love. And for the first time in my life, I want to fight for it.”
A thick silence fell over the room. We watched each other carefully, blue eyes to green, each of us trying to make sense of where the other stood. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I sighed, stood up, and shook out my blanket before folding it back up and laying it neatly on the chair. When I turned around, Brandon was a statue, still watching nervously, as if he wasn’t sure what I was going to do next. It was clearly my turn to talk, and he knew my response to his revelations probably wouldn’t be good.
But when I opened my mouth to say what we both knew I should—that it was too much, that we couldn’t see each other anymore—only two words came out:
“I’m sorry.”
Thirty-Nine
“You’resorry?” Brandon ran both hands through his hair, which was starting to look like a tumbleweed. He did it two more times, enhancing the effect. “Jesus, Skylar,why?”
His voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly, I couldn’t be close to him fast enough. I tackled him back onto the couch, and his surprised arms encircled me automatically as I straddled his waist and burrowed into his chest. I closed my eyes, relishing the warmth of his skin, the familiarity of his scent, the steady thump of his heart through his wet shirt. I was mad still—so mad that he would keep all of this from me–but I also loved him. And I didn’t want him to go through this alone.
“I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through,” I mumbled. “For what youaregoing through. I’m sorry for leaving before you could explain and for never really giving you a chance to tell me these things.”
Brandon shook his head, but gripped me tighter against him when I tried to pull away.
“No,” he said, his voice muffled by my hair. He moved so his chin was hooked over my shoulder, freeing his mouth. “No. You havenothingto be sorry for. I should have been straight with you. I really,reallyfucked that up. But the thing is, Red…”
He then pressed me gently away from him so he could look at me in the face.
“Can I call you Red again?” he asked with a hopeful smile.
I could almost smile back, but not quite. I wasn’t quite ready to forgive him completely. “I…Maybe.”
Brandon toyed with a strand of my hair, curling it around one finger before letting it fall next to my face. “The thing is...Skylar…I’m so fucking in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since, Christ, probably since the first moment I saw you, and definitely since you walked out of my office. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than when you told me to fuck off.” He chuckled at the memory, but then grew serious. “The shitty reality is, I probably would have done a lot worse than hide a few things to keep you in my life.”
The look on my face must have shown my dismay, which had Brandon shaking his head at me as he clasped my cheeks with both hands.
“No more secrets, baby,” he said, pulling me down so our foreheads touched. “That’s a promise. I can’t live a lie anymore, and I definitely can’t live without you. Do you believe me?”
