by Lex Martin
My eyes well with tears. For my friends who took care of me. For the loss I felt when I realized the baby was gone.
Eric sighs deeply, like the memory of what happened inconveniences him, and then he motions behind him toward the house, “Well, looks like you got what you wanted anyway. And hey, you got the baby minus the stretch marks. Convenient.”
I stare, not quite believing what he’s suggesting.
Pendejo.
“I’d rather slum it with Brady than do anything with you,” I bark. “You think you can just get everyone around you to do what you want. Well, guess what? I can’t be bought.” I lower my voice. “And if Brady decides to sell the farm, that’s his business. You and I are still done.”
“Look, Katherine, there’s no need to be a bitch,” he sneers as he leaps off the bench and stalks toward me.
The front door swings open with a bang. Our heads turn to find Brady glaring at Eric, who is frozen mid-stride. Brady has put on a snug black t-shirt, but with those tats decorating his arms and muscles bulging, he looks like a formidable opponent. He’s bigger than Eric. Taller. Broader. There’s no contest. If they face off, Brady will kill him.
“Kat, are you okay?” he asks, looking every bit the badass biker. I nod, not wanting him to get caught in the senator’s crosshairs by fighting with my ex. Eric’s not worth it.
Eric rolls his eyes. “She’s fine, asshole. Go back to digging your ditches.”
I’m so mortified right now.
Brady steps closer and brushes his thumb across my cheek. I automatically lean into his palm. And in that instant, all of the sadness I’m feeling, all of the heartache, dulls slightly, and I can breathe again.
A moment later, Brady turns toward Eric and leans close, towering over him. And then he lowers his voice. “Have your little chat, but if you touch one hair on her head or threaten her in any way, I will beat your ass until you are begging me to stop. I don’t care who the fuck you are. Am I clear?”
Eric’s nostrils flare, and he holds up his hands like he’s giving up, but that mouth of his keeps going as he backs up and walks slowly down the front steps. “Katherine, you were the fucking valedictorian of your high school class and graduated salutatorian in college. You should put that to good use or you’re letting your family down. Think about all of the sacrifices they made for you to get this opportunity. How can you throw that away to grow some pretty-smelling weeds? To date some tattoo artist? Besides, your father will never accept this guy.”
He waves a dismissive hand toward Brady. “Think about what I can offer you. Think about Mitchell’s campaign. That job won’t stay on the table forever.”
Eric presses the key fob to his Mercedes and opens the door. “I’ll be at the governor’s mansion over the holidays with my parents. Call me when you change your mind.”
52
Brady
It’s hard to hold a baby and still be pissed, but I still can’t quite shake the tension from tonight.
Slamming the front door woke Izzy, so I’ve been trying to get her back to bed for the last hour even though I really need to talk to Kat.
Izzy shoves her pudgy hand into my eye as she nuzzles closer. My lips quirk up. This girl loves to snuggle. Maybe it’s because of everything she’s lost, but if she could sleep all night in my arms, she probably would.
I tuck the blanket around her little body and resume rocking and patting her rear.
I’m going crazy not being able to talk to Kat right now. I heard bits and pieces of that conversation. Like the part where she yelled she’d rather slum it with me.
I know what she was trying to say, but that still stung.
The front window was cracked open, and I could hear them yelling from the kitchen. I almost walked out there several times to make sure she was okay, but I get needing closure. At least… that’s what I initially thought that conversation was about. Now, I’m not so sure.
My thoughts wander to what she said last weekend, when she asked if we were too different. If we were setting ourselves up for trouble.
Knowing now what she’s giving up, I feel like shit. Not that I care about that douchebag. I mean the job offer, the real job she’s giving up to stay here with me.
If my ongoing argument with Cal taught me anything, it’s that making sacrifices has its consequences. Sometimes it makes you resentful. And the last thing I want is for Kat to resent me down the road for hindering her career. Not that she’s that kind of person, but neither was I before I got saddled with my parents’ languishing company. I’m not proud of that, but now that I’ve had some time away from Boston, I realize that’s what I was feeling.
Every awful scenario runs through my head as I sit here in the dark.
It would kill me for Kat to hang around here until I’m hopelessly in love with her and then go back to that dickhead.
I’ve already had my heart broken once when Dani decided she’d rather date a guy who treated her like shit. What is it with girls who like to date assholes? Not that Kat is one of them. I mean, fuck, I hope not.
Valedictorian. Of course she was a brilliant student. I can see that now. How she marketed the hell out of our little farmers’ event. How she rebranded all of our products. How she’s amazing with people.
Our products.
I rub the back of my neck. Yeah, ours. I may own this farm, technically, but the soaps, the lotions—all of that stuff—that’s her baby. Her inspiration. It was her drive that got Melissa to start that side business.
I’m kicking myself for shutting down that conversation last weekend when she brought up her ex. At least I could’ve been a little more prepared for what went down tonight.
Was she really pregnant last May?
My gut aches when I think about that douche putting his hands on her. Touching her. Loving her. I should have fucked him up.
I close my eyes and rock the baby a little faster, needing to clear my mind. But it’s hard. Especially when I got that offer on the farm this morning. My realtor said a company out of Dallas was looking to get into lavender and thought the farm would make a great addition to their land holdings. Now that I realize how precarious things are with Kat, I think I should consider it.
My first reaction was to turn down the offer. Crazy, right? Doesn’t make sense.
But right now, nothing in my life makes sense.
53
Katherine
The longer Brady’s in the nursery, the harder it is to keep my emotions in check. It’s almost midnight when I give up waiting for him and head into my bedroom. I change into a t-shirt and shorts and crawl into bed. Alone.
He’s either really mad at me for all of the horrible things Eric said or he’s planning to drop the bomb that he’s leaving.
God, did he overhear me talking about being pregnant? And now he thinks I’m some girl who just jumps from one bed to another.
But if he heard that, does he know Eric is behind the offer on the farm?
A sinking feeling overwhelms me. Because worse than all of that is the thought that maybe he doesn’t care enough to be upset by any of this.
Especially if he’s leaving.
I’m blinking back the sting in my eyes when when the nursery door finally opens. I can’t let Brady see me like this. Quickly, I take a deep breath and roll over to face the wall.
Whatever he does, whatever he chooses, shouldn’t be because I’m some emotional basket case, and if we talk now, I don't know if I'll be able to keep my emotions in check. But no matter what, I won’t manipulate him with tears. He’s a good man. I don’t want him to feel like he owes me anything. He already looks after his parents and Izzy. I won’t be another burden for him.
A soft knock on my door makes my heart hammer.
“Kat, you awake?”
The door creaks open, and I pull up the blanket. “Yeah.” I assume he’s gonna come sit by me, but he doesn’t. Just stands in the doorway.
That dread builds in my chest. He must be leaving.
That’s why he’s keeping his distance. I take a deep breath and force my voice to sound even. “Think we can talk in the morning?”
He doesn’t respond right away, and in that silence, I squeeze my eyes closed, not wanting him to see me so close to a breaking point. Because if he flips on the lights, I won’t be able to talk without crying. Without telling him how much I love him and want him to stay.
“Um, sure.” Then more silence. “You okay?”
Gulping down the lump in my throat, I will myself to stay calm. “Yeah.”
Go away, Brady. Let me pull myself together.
He sighs, and mumbles something I can’t quite make out before he closes the door.
I exhale in relief, but my heart is pounding. Because everything in me, everything, wants to yank open that door and run into his arms.
I’ve always known this moment was coming. Always known our time together would end.
And I told him I wouldn't fall in love.
I wonder if he knows I’ve broken my promise.
54
Brady
The morning light filters through the kitchen window and catches the auburn highlights in Kat’s dark hair. She’s standing at the sink, staring out at the oak tree, looking like she’s a million miles away. I’d give anything to know what’s going through her mind right now.
I want to grab her and greet her like I have on so many other mornings. With a hug and a kiss. Maybe while I mumble some dirty joke against her skin. But the distance between us is cavernous.
Instead, I reach for the coffee pot and pour a cup. “Morning. Want to sit down for a minute?”
She flinches, like the sound of my voice scares her, but she grabs her coffee mug and turns to face me. Her eyes are a little puffy, and if the dark circles beneath them are any indication, she got as much sleep as I did. Worry creeps through my limbs.
Is she that upset over her ex? Does she regret being here? Fuck. Does she miss him?
But her expression is blank, emotionless, which is not like Kat. She’s usually so emotive. So expressive.
So this, this gives me pause.
I feel like my feet are being held to the fire, forcing this decision. My parents’ bills are mounting, my bank account is almost tapped, and I’m bleeding cash on repairs here. So I brace myself for this conversation.
We sit across from each other, and I’m dying to ask a thousand questions about last night, but I don’t.
She takes a deep breath, and then she asks, “Are you gonna sell?” Before I can process what she’s saying, she whispers, “Because I heard. About the offer.”
Shit.
“How? How do you know” I wanted to be the one to break the news to her.
One shoulder rises up in a shrug. “At work. Your realtor came in. I saw one of his flyers.”
“I was going to tell you when you got home last night, but then your ex showed up.”
Again, her expression is blank.
Of all the times for her to be reserved. Jesus Christ. I’ll never understand women. Because today, today I need a fucking hint. Does she want this, whatever this is between us?
I watch her over the rim of my mug as I take a sip. “It’s a great offer. Way more than I expected.”
It’s now or never. I need to lay this all out on the table for her. I need to know.
“So Kat—” I clear my throat. “I want to know what your plans are.” Because I don’t plan to hang out in Texas if she’s taking off. I realize it’s early in our relationship to be deciding these things, but fuck. I need to know. Relationship? Yeah. We’re in one. We’ve been in one. And this is where the shit hits the fan. Do I sell and head back to Boston or… what? Stay? I need her to give me some kind of indication of what she wants.
“My plans?” She looks confused.
“Yes, your plans. Are you—are you… hanging around? Or are you planning to take off?”
Her brow furrows. “Take off? Why do you think I’m the one leaving?”
Why does she look offended right now?
I scrub my face, hating everything I’m about to say. “Eric made some salient points last night.”
“Salient points?” Okay, now she looks pissed.
“What I mean is you have a great job offer on the line, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you back. I know what it’s like to have huge, life-altering decisions thrust upon you. To feel like you don’t have a choice. And I want you to know you do. You do have a choice. If you want that job, you should take it. You don’t… you don’t owe me anything.” I say the words I know I should, but I hate every one of them. Hate that she’d accept anything that’s linked to her ex. But a job is a job. I don’t want to stand in her way if that’s what she wants.
Her jaw tightens before she clenches her eyes shut. “The only thing holding me back is everyone telling me they know what I should do. I’ve heard it my entire life, and I’m sick of it.” She glares at me and pushes up her glasses. “I’m sick of people questioning my judgment. If I wanted to work on another campaign, don’t you think I would be by now?”
This beautiful girl looks fierce with the sun streaming down behind her, making her glow. And it will surely kill me to let her go if that’s what she wants, but I can’t let her throw away her career. After everything she went through growing up. After how much her family struggled to make ends meet. I can’t let her do this for me. For this decrepit farm. For promises I probably shouldn’t make.
Clearing my throat, I force the words out. “Don’t you think you should reconsider? That kind of career is a lot to give up.”
There’s a flash of emotion in her eyes, but then it’s gone, and in its place is a cold detachment. For one long, brutal moment, she gives me that blank stare. “You know, Brady, maybe you should take that offer on the farm.”
And then she scoots her chair back, dumps out her coffee in the sink, and heads to her room, leaving me gutted when she says she’s packing.
Goddamn it.
My head hangs forward as I listen to her belongings thump around in the other room. So this is how it ends.
And it kills me.
Because I hadn’t thought that her taking the job meant we were over exactly. I think some small part of me was hoping we might be able to work things out. Are these two mutually exclusive, her job offer and our relationship?
I think about my parents and the responsibilities I have back East. About needing to raise Izzy. About the million bills sitting on the counter over there. About my nearly empty bank account.
Do I want to drag her down with me? Because that’s what this feels like right now. Like drowning. Because even with the farm’s side business and bath products, we won’t stay afloat, not with the bills I have coming in from Boston.
What do she and I have if I sell the farm?
As I mull over my choices, I know fighting for her when she has so much of her future on the line is selfish. And I won’t be the prick who drags her down when I have nothing left to offer her.
55
Katherine
What have I done?
I close the door to my room and lean my head against the frame, wishing I could take back the last ten minutes of my life.
But would I say anything else? Would this moment be any different if I told him I loved him? If I told him this was killing me?
I didn’t mean to tell him to sell the farm. The words rushed out of me before I could stop them. I was pissed and emotional and hurt, but when Brady didn’t blink an eye at my words, I felt heartbroken.
Of course he wants to sell. Of course he wants to get back to his life in Boston. Who stays in a small Texas town because of a girl?
He must not have heard Eric last night. I know Brady well enough to know he’d never take that asshole’s money.
As much as I want to tell Brady that Eric’s behind the offer, I know that selling would help Brady and his family. Where the money comes from doesn’t matter.
And Eric is crazy
if he thinks I’m coming back here once this place is his.
Reaching for my duffle bag in the closet, I toss it on the floor before I reach for my clothes. I don’t have much. Jeans and t-shirts. A few flannels. My boots. One pair of pumps.
One item remains on a hanger. That black dress. The only nice outfit I own.
My fingers run along the silky soft fabric.
I won’t bring it, I decide. It reminds me of the funerals and that night with Brady.
Maybe I should have known all along that any relationship that starts steeped in death is doomed to fail.
I wipe my eyes, and before I can think too much more about what I’m doing, I grab my laptop and tuck it into my bag. Then I reach for my notebook and scribble out the note before I totally lose it.
As I head for the door, I toss the bag over my shoulder and grab my binder, the one with all of the recipes and scent combinations.
My heart is in my throat when I step into the kitchen. Brady’s feeding Izzy, and her beautiful little face grins at me, sending the knife a little deeper.
How did I ever think I loved my ex? This. Brady and Izzy. These are the people I love.
I swallow. Hard. It’s tough to keep my act together, but I will the tears back.
Leaning over, I stick my nose in her soft hair. “Love you, baby. So much.” I touch her cheek, overwhelmed by loss. Of Cal and Melissa and my sweet, darling Izzy. I hope she remembers me. When she's in Boston and in bed at night and wondering what life must have been like with her parents, I hope she remembers that so many people love her.
I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry I let your parents down. Images from that night flash behind my eyes. The way the barn door banged open in the rain. The dark expanse of night, so dark, I couldn’t see the stars. How I couldn’t scream their names loud enough when I saw their truck underwater.