I carefully place the necklace back into the box and grab my phone. He doesn’t answer my call.
Or the next one.
Or any of my texts.
When I go to bed, I fall asleep with my phone in my hand, but the call never comes.
I’m waiting on something that’s never going to happen.
chapter twenty-two
nautica
“Can I borrow your car?” I ask.
“To go where?” Macy replies. She zips up her bag and slides it underneath her bed.
We’re back at school – just got in an hour ago and finished unpacking. It’s been eight days since Simon’s accident. I offered to take the semester off to help my mom with his recovery, but she said no. He broke his ribs and a leg in the accident and is unable to go back to base until he recovers. Telling him he couldn’t go back to work for his tour is what he took the hardest.
He’s apologized to me and tried calling Bracken a few times to do the same thing, but he gets the same thing I do – voicemail.
It’s like his phone has been permanently shut off. I even tried calling his mom, but she didn’t answer, either. The good thing is that I know where to find him now. There’s no way he’s not coming back to school for his final semester.
I grab my coat and slide my phone into my pocket. “To Bracken’s,” I answer.
She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bracken is still on Macy’s shit list, and she wants me to have nothing to do with him.
“Probably not, but I need to talk to him.”
Uneasiness lines her features. “Do you want to me to come with you?” I shake my head. I need to do this alone. She tosses me her keys. “Sure, but don’t be fucking him in my backseat if you two make up.”
“I can only hope it goes that well,” I whisper, underneath my breath.
I wave goodbye before scurrying out of my dorm. I trek through the snow-covered parking lot and get into her car. I keep it silent on the ride over while mentally going over everything I want to say to him. I fight with myself on whether to turn around and go back so many times I lose count.
My stomach tightens when I spot his truck in the parking lot, but I feel a sort-of giddiness. This is it. I’m going to march in there and make things better. I take slow steps to his apartment. Jasper answers the door after a few knocks. His face drops when he sees me.
Not a good sign.
“Is Bracken here?” I ask, shivering as I tighten my scarf around my neck.
He lets out a sigh and looks over my shoulder in hesitation. “Uh … he’s …”
I slap his shoulder, getting him to finally look at me. “Answer me,” I order, with a cold stare. It’s fucking freezing, and my broken heart isn’t in the mood for games.
“No. He went out for a little. I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
I point to his truck. “Weird, his truck is right there.”
He scratches his head. “He … uh … drove my car.”
“Liar,” I grumble, pushing the door open wider and shoving past him. Bracken never drives anything but his truck.
I ignore Jasper’s protests as I head straight towards Bracken’s bedroom. The door is shut. I don’t bother knocking before barging in. Adrenaline is pumping through me like crazy.
What am I going to say to him? Is he still upset about everything?
Jasper is on my heels, still begging me to stop, and I stumble back into him when I take in the scene in front of me.
No. No.
I’m afraid I’m close to passing out as I give him all my weight. This is a dream. Please be a dream.
Jasper helps me back to my feet as I keep my eyes on Bracken. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, registered worry on his face, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost. My gaze moves to the redhead next to him. Her eyes and face are red from crying, her hands are shaking, but that’s not the worst part. In her hand is a pregnancy test.
I can feel my lunch ready to come up.
“Nautica,” Bracken yells, causing me to jump. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
He snaps up from the bed and comes my way. His upper lip snarls, like he has a reason to be pissed at me. Jasper moves out of our way and stands to the side, silently watching the shit show that is about to start.
“Actually, I should have.” I shove his chest and fight back my own tears. “Guilt has been eating me alive, tearing me apart for everything that happened with us.” It’s getting harder to hold back my tears. “I thought maybe, just maybe, you were missing me as much as I was you. But obviously not, considering you have a chick in your bedroom holding a goddamn pregnancy test.”
“You need to leave.” He grabs my hand and starts to pull me through the hallway towards the front door.
I jerk out of his hold. “Thank you,” I spat. He stays quiet, not even looking at me. “Thank you for helping me realize that you’re not worth the tears or the heartache. Fuck you Bracken, and goodbye.”
He stands there, hands in his pockets, and stares at the floor. He can’t even look at me. I turn around and sprint out the door to the parking lot.
Jasper is the one who runs after me. Not Bracken. Not the man I’m in love with, and the one who just smashed my heart into a million pieces. He pounds on the car window until I roll it down.
“Nautica,” he yells, out of breath. “Give him time … let him explain.”
“You tell him he has a week, Jasper,” I say. “One week, and then it’s over. I’m done.”
One week passes without word from him.
Two weeks pass.
Weeks turn into months.
Months turn into years.
five years later
chapter twenty-three
nautica
The casket is black with gold trim.
I went to the funeral home with my mom three days ago to assist her in picking it out, along with the other arrangements, because she couldn’t do it herself. My heart aches for her. It was the second time she was making funeral arrangements for someone she loved in a far too-little time span.
A heart attack.
No one saw it coming.
Randy had been working late after the dealership closed. My mom went to check on him when he didn’t show up for dinner and wasn’t answering his phone. It was too late when she found him in his office. He was gone before she even had the chance to call for help.
I cross my legs and focus on the casket. Photos of Randy with my mom, Bracken, and even his ex-wife are delicately placed along the lid and surrounded by an array of colorful floral arrangements.
I stare at one in particular of him and Bracken. It had to have been his freshman year, and after a football game because he’s wearing his jersey as sweat glistens his forehead. A proud smile beams across Randy’s face while he sports a t-shirt with his son’s jersey number.
“Bracken,” my mom whispers.
My gaze snaps from the photos to her. What? Is she reading my mind? My mouth drops open when she stumbles out of her chair and straight into the strong arms of a man.
My heart thumps against my chest. I do a double take, praying I’m seeing things, and grip the arm of my chair for support.
Him.
I didn’t expect him to show. Shit, no one had expected him to show. After he let me walk away from him at his apartment, I thought I’d never see him again. He hasn’t tried to contact anyone, including Randy. It’s like he dropped us all and didn’t give a shit about it.
I’ve been working on moving on from that part of my life. Now five long and hard years later, the sight of him feels like a chainsaw straight through my heart.
“I’m so happy you came honey,” my mom says, her voice broken up in sobs. “Thank you.” Her cries grow louder, drawing more attention our way. “Thank you so much.”
The crowd starts to merge our way.
Just fucking great.
Back to the Bracken show.
My gaze pins to him, watching his every move. He pats her on the back while I hold in the urge to shoot up from my chair and punch him.
“You know I wouldn’t miss this, Pam,” he says, calmly. He clutches her tighter in his hold before glancing over her shoulder, straight at me. His face is pale, his baby blue eyes swollen, and it looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “I can’t believe this happened.” His shuts his eyes. “This isn’t right.”
It kills me to watch my mom crumble in the arms of the man I once loved. I still love. He holds her tight, soothing her with his entrancing voice that used to take me over. That voice still haunts me, giving me nothing but nightmares and tears.
His eyes slowly open and he tries to gain contact, but I look away. He isn’t getting shit from me unless it’s to tell him to go to hell. I bite my tongue, nearly drawing blood. This is about my mom. I need to put my anger for him aside in support for her. I lean back in my chair, acting like I don’t notice his presence.
He’s ignored my existence for years. I owe him the same.
I look down the row at Simon sitting on the opposite side of my mom with his family. His mouth is drawn into a straight line as he rubs his clenched jaw. He’s just as uneasy of Bracken being here as I am. I swear I notice Macy snarl at him.
He takes the open seat next to me when the service starts. I flinch, my mouth going dry, when he takes my hand in his. I’m itching to pull away and tell him not to touch me, but I can’t. I don’t want to look like a woman being rude to a grieving son. So I slump deeper into my seat. The heat of his hand grows warmer as the service goes on. Tears fall down my cheeks, mourning the death of not only his father, but also the memories of us.
I sneak a glance at him, and for the first time ever, I witness him cry.
We had something once, something that should’ve never happened, and ripped through our lives like a tornado, leaving no one unscarred.
I know he won’t be here long.
History will repeat itself. He won’t stay, and I’m not going to let him get close enough to break my heart this time.
chapter twenty-four
nautica
He’s here in the flesh, standing in the living room, and acting like he never left us. The wound of him has been painfully ripped back open.
I lean against the wall, my temper growing higher each time he greets someone walking through the front door. He steps to my mom’s side anytime it looks like she’s on the verge of another breakdown, acting like he’s been a constant here.
My throat itches. I want to scream, make a scene, and tell him he doesn’t belong here, but at the same time I crave for him to wrap his arms around me. Even after all of this time, the asshole still has power over me; making me feel things I don’t want to. I hate him for that.
He looks good. Too damn good. His black suit fits him like it was perfectly tailored to his broad chest. His gold watch glistens underneath the light. His dark hair is swept back, giving me a view of his baby blues. A trimmed mustache runs along his upper lip as a short, kept beard covers the bottom of his face and strong chin. I’ve never been much of a beard girl … but damn, I guess I just had to see it on the right man.
His arms are more defined, more muscular, and so are his shoulders. Gone is the college boy I loved, replaced with this powerful, enthralling man with one arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He’s changed so much. It feels like I know nothing about him.
Unable to watch him any longer, I duck into the kitchen to get everything ready. We’re holding the reception at Simon’s house – well, our old house. He bought the place after my mom and Randy purchased a new, five-bedroom house and moved out.
I frown when I feel him at my back, following me.
“You’re wearing the necklace,” he says, looking straight at it when I turn around. I look down and want to slap myself. In the middle of my chest, over my white blouse and in-between the lapels of my unbuttoned blazer, is the necklace he sent me.
I forgot to take it off on the ride over here. I didn’t want him to notice it. I wrap my fingers around the heart pendant and mindlessly play with it.
“It looks more beautiful on you than I imagined,” he adds, running a hand through his beard.
I’m not even sure why I put the damn thing on this morning. I haven’t worn it in years. I threw it in the back of my jewelry box when the realization that he was never coming back finally sunk in. For some reason today, I drug it out, but I’m not going back and forth about what that reason is with him. I think it’s a sign that I need to sell it on eBay or something.
“I’m surprised you even showed up,” I say. I can’t hold back the nastiness in my tone.
He broke my heart, walked out on me, and didn’t come back until tragedy came. Now, he’s trying to act like nothing happened. He might be okay with pretending, but I’m not. I’m doing my best not to blow up on him because his father did just pass away. I’m trying to have some compassion. I can’t kick a guy too hard while he’s down – maybe just give him a little nudge.
“I’m surprised you thought I wouldn’t,” he replies.
I move around him and open up the freezer. I took on the job of getting the reception arrangements together. Cooking isn’t exactly one of my strong suits, so I ordered subs from a local sandwich shop, along with some chips and finger foods.
“You left everyone; practically fell off the face of the Earth. I honestly don’t know what to expect from you anymore.” I grab an ice tray, slam it down on the counter, and start to drag out the rest of the food. “How did you find out?”
I know it wasn’t Simon or me, and I don’t think my mom has his number.
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. “My uncle called my mom,” he answers.
“Good thing, because no one here knew how to get ahold of you.”
“You don’t think I regret that?” he asks, sharply. “I never had a chance to apologize to my father or make our relationship better. I thought eventually enough time would pass that we could move on and make shit right, but it’s too late now. He’s gone, and I never told him how much I really loved him.” His eyes squeeze shut as his voice lowers. “How much he meant to me.”
I rub my cheek while avoiding all eye contact. “He loved you, and he knew you loved him.”
“Yeah, but I had a pretty shitty way of showing it.” I’m not going to argue with that, even if it will make him feel better. “So uh … Simon and Macy?” He signals out to the living room where my brother and best friend are sitting together.
“Yep.”
Apparently, they had a little fling before we left for college, and started it back up after Simon’s accident. They married a few years ago.
It could’ve been us.
“And their daughter?” I nod, thinking of my niece, Annabelle. “Wow, she’s beautiful; an almost spitting image of you when you were younger.”
I pop a pretzel in my mouth and scurry from behind the island to escape the kitchen. I have to get out of here. If we keep talking, I’m going to have a breakdown. I can’t stay here and listen to him compliment me. I come to a halt when he grabs my arm.
I shiver at the feel of his lips against my ear. “Please don’t run from me. We need to talk. I know this isn’t the place to hash out our past and problems, but give me a chance to explain everything.”
I yank out of his hold. “That’s where you’re wrong. We don’t need to talk about anything. You’re here. I know my mother appreciates it, but I don’t need anything else from you. I don’t care about an apology, an explanation, anything. That was years ago. I’ve moved on.”
His face falls. “I came here for you, too,” he says, his voice strained.
“It’s too late.” I resist the tingle in my hand to slap him across the face. “When this is over, you can go run back to where you came from.” I can’t look him in the eyes.
“Are you seeing someone?”
“We are so not doing this,” I reply, flabbergasted
. Is he really trying to ask me this here?
“Just tell me, please. Tell me.”
“Leave me alone.”
“This conversation, us talking shit out, is going to happen sooner or later.”
“I’d prefer later … or never.”
I storm away from him and push through the crowd until I reach the stairs. I dart up to my old bedroom and slam the door shut behind me. Deep breaths pass through my lungs as I lean back against the door and curse to the air.
I had my worries about him showing up, but I tried to place them in the back of my mind. I tried to convince myself that he wouldn’t come because Bracken couldn’t man up and do the right thing. I guess I was wrong. I can’t deal with that today, though. I have to be strong for my mom, even if Bracken is breaking me down.
I sit down on the floor. Does he have a girlfriend? A wife?
I’m pissed at myself for studying his hand and feeling a sense of relief when I noticed there was no sign of a wedding ring. He said he didn’t do commitments. I guess he wasn’t lying.
I look up at the knock of the door.
“Come in,” I say, hesitantly, hoping it’s not Bracken on the other side.
Macy strolls in, gently shutting the door behind her. “He’s here,” she says, matter-of-factly.
“He’s here,” I repeat, running my hands over my face. Those two words mean so much.
“What are you going to do?”
“Stay as far away from him as I can.” I get up and double-check my make-up in the vanity mirror. “He won’t be here long. Hopefully history will repeat itself and he’ll be gone.” I unclasp the necklace and slip into my pocket. “I have to get back downstairs to my mom.”
Bracken is gone when we make it back down. Thank God, maybe my wish has been granted and he’s already skipped town.
Bad For You: (An Older Brother's Best Friend Romance) Page 12