“Are you ignoring me?”
“No.” My whispered word ricocheted off the cave-like walls of the closet as if someone else was shouting it back at me.
“Then why aren’t you speaking up?” Her tone rose another octave somehow, and I cringed.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you.” The second I said the words, I knew I shouldn’t have. She inhaled, the sound as unsettling as tree branches squeaking against a window in the middle of the night.
“I—I need to go.” I went to hang up as she started shouting, but something stopped me, and I stared at the phone a moment, able to hear every word of resentment pouring out of her mouth.
I slowly lifted the phone back to my ear. If I hung up, it would be worse. She’d call back, over and over, until she got to say all the things she wanted to tell me.
As she continued to attack me, I thought once more of Bayden and his warm lips on my forehead, whispering that everything would be all right. In my mind, he was right here beside me, helping me weather this storm.
I thought about his smile, and the pain ravishing my soul eased.
The line went dead in my ear, and I glanced at my phone. But there wasn’t an ounce of light in the closet. My phone must have died. How long had I been sitting there, thinking of Bayden while my mother laid into me?
I shifted on my numb backside. Uneasy, the phone slipped through my hand. The soft thump of it hitting the floor was somehow comforting, and I hugged my legs in the dark. Blinking back the pain, I hated the tight feeling in my face. The dried tears coated my skin, and I wanted to scratch as a stray tear rolled down my cheek.
I needed to plug in my phone, but the edge of my bed seemed so far away. My charger cord might as well have been on another planet.
The need to call Bayden filled me, and I glanced where I thought my dead phone had fallen. Picking it up, I tried to turn it on. Holding the power button, I waited for it to power up to tell me I had three percent left, but the screen stayed black. No light filled the small space, and I sat there, thinking about how poetic it was that I was trapped in the dark and my only means of light was out of my reach.
I wanted Bayden’s strength and his unending support. Even if I couldn’t talk about what was going on, he’d understand. I craved that acceptance and his “no questions asked, no judgment passed” method of loving me.
Love?
I didn’t think he loved me, did I? I mean, how could he? He knew nothing about me. I was acting like a silly, lovesick teenager. Yes, Bayden was a great guy, but love? It was too soon for that. Right?
I stared out the closet door toward the window, and a sliver of moonlight called to me. There was no way I’d call Bayden at such a late hour, anyway. A little voice in my mind whispered that maybe he’d show up unexpectedly.
The second that hopeful thought cropped up, I remembered how I told him off for inviting himself over. I made damn sure he’d never show up and catch me in a vulnerable moment again.
Even if he showed up, how would he get in? I locked the deadbolts. The house was dark. Bayden wouldn’t break down the door to find me; he’d assume I was asleep like a normal human being and leave without disturbing me.
I was alone. Wholly, utterly, alone.
And for the first time, I didn’t want to be alone with my pain and grief. I wanted to be with him.
I needed to be stronger, stand up, and go plug in my phone. I needed to be the badass woman I had to be and stop cowering in my closet.
Exhaustion swept through me. Would it be so bad to let someone help me through a challenging moment? Could I be a badass and also lean on someone sometimes?
Despite the questions, no answers presented themselves.
I couldn’t muster an ounce of energy to get to my feet, much less walk to my bedside table. Instead, I put my forehead on my knees and cried until complete exhaustion consumed me.
Chapter Eighteen
Bayden
I glanced at my phone. It was nearly one in the afternoon, and Miranda hadn’t gotten back to me after last night’s texts at dinner. I didn’t want to keep messaging her because I wanted to respect what she said about needing her time alone.
Still, I hated not hearing from her, and she hadn’t even sent the agreed-on word so I would know she was safe.
“Uh-oh, I know that look.”
I turned my head toward the voice and saw Max in his navy shorts with his mailbag slung over his shoulder. His hair was black and silver at the temples, and his dark eyes were sparkling in the afternoon sunshine. I waved him over to the front patio and offered him a beer from my cooler.
He shook his head but sat beside me, running his hand over his close-clipped gray goatee as if to smooth it down. He said nothing, and my thoughts boiled over.
“I think I might love Miranda, but she has some issues that we need to work through.” The words burst out, surprising me. I trusted Max and knew he wouldn’t tell a soul about anything I confided in him.
“Everybody has issues.” Max’s thoughtful tone had me nodding. He was right, though I couldn’t help but feel that Miranda and I might have a few more problems than the average couple. That is unless I thought about how rocky things had been between Noah and Kandra.
I fiddled with the icy beer, watching the beads of condensation roll down the outside of the bottle. “That’s true, but how do you work through issues with someone who refuses to discuss them?” The lack of communication and the way she shut me out had been bothering me. How could we work on anything if she wasn’t even willing to tell me there was a problem?
“You can’t force someone to talk to you.” Max smiled into the sunshine while squinting up into the blue sky. A few fluffy white clouds drifted past, and a stiff wind blew in off the creek. “Give her time. Either she’ll come around, or she won’t. Either way, you’ll know.”
I nodded. “I hope Miranda comes around. I care about her.”
“I’m sure she knows that.”
I looked at Max, but he was staring off into space while he continued talking. “Just keep being there for her when she needs you. Keep being her rock, and the rest will follow.”
Taking a deep drink of my frosty beer, I watched some crows fly by. What Max said made sense, but I was kind of hoping for more that I could do on my end. “Is there anything I can do to help her talk to me?”
“Be someone she can trust. Give her space when she needs it and let her know she’s in your thoughts.” Max still seemed contemplative.
“Thank you for talking to me about this.” I’d been struggling—and still was—but having someone to talk to had helped.
“No problem. I think it’ll take time. Try to be patient. She’ll open up when she’s ready, and I’m sure you’ll be able to work things out.” Max lifted his shoulders and let them back down slowly.
I hoped he was right. “It’s difficult because communication is so important to me.” It had never been before, but I’d never been serious about anyone before. Miranda meant everything to me, so doing things right was necessary.
“Have you tried telling her that?” Max glanced at me, and I thought back.
I was sure I hadn’t, but we weren’t quite in an actual relationship. “It’s… complicated,” I said honestly. “We haven’t made anything official. Do I have the right to make demands?”
“You’re setting reasonable boundaries and making your needs known. There’s nothing demanding about that.” Max chuckled. “Even if it’s not official, she needs to know what you’re all about. Otherwise, how can she figure out if you’re right for her?”
He had a very valid point, one I hadn’t thought of before. I needed to have a candid conversation with her and let her know that I wanted things between us to be serious, but I would wait as long as necessary. Like Max pointed out, I had to make my intentions clear.
“You’re in this for the long haul, then?” Max asked.
I waited for the fear that should have accompanied his words, but none came.
/>
“I think so. I can see myself with her long term.” Provided we could get the communication down. I loved the woman she was, her quirky humor, even her darker side. I didn’t mind her sleep issues. I wanted to hold her tight and keep her safe. She had a troubled past, but we could work through that and whatever else she was dealing with.
“That’s good. I think you and the sheriff fit well together.” Max’s grin stretched ear to ear. “You need to understand that things are always complicated. Don’t get it in your head that you’ll talk, and everything will suddenly be roses.”
I nodded. I knew that, and I was prepared to face whatever issues came next. With her by my side, I knew we could get through almost anything. “I know. I do have a few other concerns, though. How do you know when something is a deal-breaker?”
Max stiffened up. “Well, that’s different for everyone. Decide what’s worth working through and what’s not. Is there something specific you’re thinking about? Or are you giving me a generality?”
There was something specific, but I wasn’t sure it was my place to share her secret. I knew Max wouldn’t say a word, but did I have the right to tell him?
“Scout’s honor, what you say here stays here.” Max lifted a hand as if swearing an oath.
“I know,” I said with a nod, “I worry if talking about it is betraying her trust.”
“Well, you don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not. I respect that you’re concerned with how she might feel about you discussing her secrets. That goes a long way to telling me how you feel about her.” Max’s voice filled with pride.
“She seems to have an aversion to babies.” I swallowed hard and stared at the nearly full beer in my hand. “I worry she’s not going to want kids.”
Max sucked a breath between his teeth, producing a hissing sound. “I see why you’re asking about deal-breakers because that is a tough one.”
We sat in silence, and I wiped the condensation from my drink on my jeans before setting the bottle down. I wasn’t much of a day drinker—outside of our after-work drinks—and I could nurse a single beer for most of the day. It was more of a refreshment than anything.
“I mean, I’m not ready for kids right now.” I loved my nephew, but I wasn’t ready to take on that kind of thing full time. I’d stick with babysitting and enjoy all the best parts while knowing I got to send him home at the end of the day.
“I’m not sure anyone is ever ready for kids, even if they think they are, but I understand what you’re saying.” Max chuckled. “Did she tell you she’s against having kids?”
“Well, no, but…” Why else would she run out like she had when I was watching Kip?
“So maybe talk to her instead of assuming. Prepare yourself for the possibility that you’re right, but let her speak her mind. Perhaps it’s not what it looks like.” Max sounded hopeful, and I wanted to feel that optimism too, but I couldn’t imagine another reason she’d be terrified of kids.
“I don’t think it’s a deal-breaker. I mean, she’s the one I want to be with. Without her, kids wouldn’t be a possibility.”
“You mean if you stayed single.” Max raised an eyebrow at me. “But what about down the road? Are you going to be my age and look back, wishing you had kids? Can you live with the potential regret? Think about all of it before you leap in. Don’t go into it thinking you can change her and don’t give up things that will ultimately make you miserable. That’s not fair to you or her.” Max looked away at a huge cloud that resembled a wild stallion, and I thought about his words for a moment.
I had no idea if I would regret this down the road. I had thought about it for a while now, but all I knew was that I wouldn’t want kids with anyone else besides Miranda. If she didn’t want kids but wanted me, that was all that mattered. I already jumped all-in with her, and I wasn’t scared to fall. The thing I feared the most was the possibility of falling without her.
“Just prepare yourself but think things through.” Max stood up, and I stood with him.
“Thank you for your wise counsel. I think you provided the clarity I needed,” I said as he walked toward the sidewalk. He gave me a quick salute and headed toward my neighbor’s place, whistling all the way.
I watched Max go and sank back into my chair. Picking up my beer, I took a sip and thought about everything Max had said. I was daydreaming about what my future might look like as my phone rang. A bolt of excitement flashed through me as I fished it out of my pocket. Maybe Miranda was finally getting back to me after the texts I’d sent her last night, but it wasn’t Miranda calling me. It was Ethan.
Steeling myself for the worst, I answered. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“I wanted to apologize for last night.” Ethan’s voice was even and hopeful. “Things got hairy, and I was a jerk.”
I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. He had nothing to apologize for. “No worries. I was a dick, so I had it coming.”
He laughed. “Well, I won’t argue with you. You weren’t putting up with any shit last night, were you?”
“Nope.” I took another drink of my beer, not bothering to hold back my smile. “So now, be honest with me, are you seeing anyone?”
He seemed to sober right up, his laughter gone, but it returned a moment later. “Nah.”
“Are you interested in anyone?” I waved at a passing neighbor walking his cocker spaniel, and he waved back, flashing me a broad smile as he crossed the road.
“Are you kidding?” Ethan laughed. “I’ve been watching firsthand how miserable you are while you try to figure things out with the sheriff.”
“Hey,” I snapped in my best warning tone, but there was no bite behind the word. His good-natured ribbing didn’t bother me.
He continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “And I remember how difficult falling in love was for poor Noah. What a nightmare. You think I want to bring that kind of insanity into my life?” He let out a snort. “No, thank you. You all can take your misery and keep it to your damn selves.”
That was one way to look at things, but he was missing the best part—that sense of love, of connection. There was so much more to it than misery. The misery was such a small part. “I think you’re focusing on all the wrong stuff.”
“Or maybe you want me to be as miserable as you are. Misery loves company or whatever.” The humor in his tone put me at ease, and all was right in the world. Sure, we’d have our little spats, but we always came around in the end. We were brothers, and nothing would change that.
And no matter what anyone might tell you, there’s no such thing as brothers who get along all the time.
Chapter Nineteen
Miranda
Was it already Wednesday? I hadn’t gotten back to Bayden since Saturday night. No wonder his messages were becoming progressively more worried. Around this time of year, I took time off—on call—for personal reasons.
Sinking onto my bed, I nibbled on my lip and wrote out a text.
Safe! Sorry, I’m so awful. I’m still alive, I promise. First, I’d told him not to stop by, and then I ghosted him. Great. I was a jerk. But with that olive branch text sent, I breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to have that outside contact. With my mother’s calls becoming an almost daily thing, talking to someone else was nice.
You’re not awful. I know you’re going through some stuff. I’m here if you need me.
He was so darn sweet. I wanted to hug the phone, hoping he’d feel it, as stupid as that was. Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate that.
You’re very welcome. How are you?
I tensed up. I couldn’t help the involuntary reaction. What could I tell him? I wasn’t okay. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I also didn’t want to worry him or stress him out. I typed out my response and sent it. I’ve been better, but I’m surviving.
Sometimes surviving is all you can do. That’s enough for now.
I smiled. So how has work been?
Good. Missing
you, though.
Missing you, too.
My texting screen disappeared, replaced by an incoming call. My heart sank as I stared at the number. I didn’t know if I had the emotional energy or grit to get through another one of her rants, but what choice did I have?
I answered the call, and before I lifted the phone to my ear, I could hear her wailing. “She’s gone! She’s gone, and it should have been you.”
I closed my eyes and saw my sister’s face on the other side of my lids. After everything I’d been through, I could get through this too. Still, all the calls, the accusations, and the hatred wore me out.
“Don’t ignore your mother.” My father’s shout elicited a flinch from me, and my eyes flew open. “She’s right, you know. You were irresponsible and now we can never get her back. I’m not sure how you can live with yourself.”
My chest compressed so tightly I couldn’t breathe. “Some days, I wish it had been me.”
The second I said the words, I knew I shouldn’t have. My mother screeched like a mouse being scooped up by an eagle, and my father bellowed nonsense.
And something in me snapped. “I wish it had been me, so I don’t have to go through this every time you guys have your mental breakdowns. I wish I were the one, so I don’t have to be your freaking punching bag.” The words felt good flying from my lips, and the sounds they made only added to my sense of relief. I’d never stood up for myself before.
“Maybe, Mom, if you and Dad weren’t so busy going out partying and hadn’t left a nine-year-old to watch a six-year-old, Alisa would still be alive right now!” How long had it been since I said her name?
My father spluttered as if someone was holding his head underwater, and he was fighting for air. But my mother let out a thin, keening wail that pierced right through me.
“No, you killed her!” My mother’s broken words had no power anymore.
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