BREAKER: A Brother's Best Friend Standalone Romance

by Harloe Rae

  “Do you think she knew?”

  Miles chews on my question for a moment. “Did she ever mention her health? Not feeling well?”

  I snort. “We didn’t have that type of relationship.”

  He nods, a glimmer of understanding dawning across his features. “A prideful woman.”

  “More like loose cannon.” I scrub over my face, reality beginning to crash down from the ceiling.

  Miles hums. “Well, her charts make no mention of regular appointments or general check-ups. Considering the condition of her organs and the severity of disease, I’d say she was either ignoring the issues or self-medicating enough to not notice.”

  And isn’t that the gist of her existence. Damn. I dip my head, slouching low in the chair. Words stick to the roof of my mouth. What was left to say?

  The good doctor must read my mood. “Please stay as long as you’d like. There’s no reason to rush. Are there other relatives you need to contact?”

  I offer a limp shrug in response. Anything more might break me.

  “If so, feel free to do so now. There’s a nurse station just down the hall. They can call me if necessary.”

  “Got it,” I mutter.

  He pats my back. “I’m very sorry you ran out of time with her. Take comfort in knowing she’s no longer suffering.”

  But is that really true?

  The door closes behind him with a soft click. We’re alone, cocooned in endless silence. The steady beeping from her monitor spikes my own pulse. The urge to run and never return surges into my veins. I can’t fucking handle this. My heart screams for comfort that only one person can give. The phone slips off my clammy palm. I grip the plastic until it’s ready to crack. Mincing words has never been my specialty. With trembling fingers, I type out a message.

  Me: I need you, Sutt. Now. My mom is dying. She’s at Springs Regional. You have to be here.

  Happy something #51: Finding freedom in letting go.

  An indescribable pain rips into me when Grady’s text comes through. It’s as if we’re connected by that electronic ping. Everything he must be feeling pours into my soul. His grief and suffering become mine. Tar pumps into my limbs and standing up is a chore. A tortured whimper quivers off my lips. I struggle to regain a normal breathing pattern. Tears are already racing down my cheeks.

  I don’t bother responding to him. We’ll be together shortly. I spin in two fast circles, trying to get my brain screwed in straight. Other customers inside the diner are turning to stare. Let them look. I couldn’t care less about the hush falling over the small restaurant. Their faces blend into a single mask of intrusion.

  After packing up my shit, I haul ass to the car. The engine rumbles to life with a sharp crank of my wrist. I type in the address and stomp on the accelerator. The drive should take me fifteen minutes. I make it to the hospital in eight.

  My thoughts are a scramble as I breeze through the sliding glass entrance. I scan the lobby with urgency. The thundering in my ears echoes like a frantic pack of buffaloes chasing me. The tiled floor ripples and tilts beneath me. Shit, maybe I need to slow down. But the clock is ticking, each second a swift strike across my frazzling nerves. If I’m this spooked, Grady must be a complete mess. I yank at my hair and dart forward. A woman at the greeter desk takes pity on me.

  “Miss? Are you all right?”

  I’m certain my eyes resemble full moons. “No.”

  She motions me toward her. “Who are you searching for?”

  My legs wobble as I stagger over. “Camilla Bowen.”

  A couple taps on the keyboard follow. A frown twists her features. “Oh, I see.”

  “What?” My voice is shrill.

  She refuses to meet my gaze. “She’s on the third floor in room 313.”

  “O-okay. Can you tell me about her prognosis?”

  The woman is shaking her head before I’m done asking. “Nope. That’s not my job. There will be a doctor doing rounds this afternoon.”

  I furrow my brow. “All right. How about some directions?”

  She prattles off a laundry list of turns that my muddled mind barely comprehends. I nod along with faith that there are proper signs posted. When I stay unmoving in front of her, she quirks a brow. “Is there a problem, dear?”

  I jolt out of my stupor. The troubles are stacking up against me. I don’t bother sharing that. After a timid wave, I take off to the left wing. I follow the woman’s instructions to the best of my ability. The dimly lit hallway on the third floor is something out of a horror film. Overhead lights flicker. The drab walls are barren. My sandals squeak with every inch I cover. This trek is ominous as hell. As if hospitals need to be more creepy. 313 finally appears in front of me and a sob tickles my tongue. The door is slightly ajar. I push the gap wider and peek inside.

  “Gray?”

  I’m welcomed by stilted silence and darkness. The square space is almost pitch-black, only a single strand of sunshine breaks through the blinds. My feet carry me across the room without pause. There’s a slim figure tucked in bed, tranquil and sleeping. Stark white sheets cover most of Camilla’s petite form. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume she’s enjoying a midday nap.

  Grady is there, hunched over the mattress, motionless and waiting. The torrent of sorrow in his green eyes is a punch to my sternum. I choke out a garbled breath. His raw expression showers me with a downpour of emotions. Remaining upright is no longer an option.

  I collapse onto the empty chair beside him. My forehead kisses his. “I’m so damn sorry, Gray.”

  He folds into me, a tremor wracking his entire body. “Thank you for coming. I can’t do this by myself. Not anymore.”

  “Of course, baby. You never have to be alone again. I’ll always be by your side.”

  His arms cinch around me in an unrelenting hold, as if I’ll vanish at any moment. “I don’t know what to do, Sutt.”

  I stroke a palm down his bowed back. “Are there options?”

  A cutting jerk of his head. “Only one. I c-can’t even say it.”

  Sweat prickles along my hairline. “Nothing needs to be decided right away.”

  “Why delay the inevitable?” His haunted tone vibrates my bones.

  “Who found her?” I study Camilla in front of us. “What happened?”

  The heat of his mouth is a puff across my neck. “For whatever reason, the landlord dropped in to see her. She was already unconscious and barely breathing. The doctor listed off all sorts of failures with her body. He thinks the stroke is what caused the most damage to her brain. But she’s been in a perpetual nosedive my entire life. I guess she finally crashed.”

  My chest jerks with a shuddering wheeze. “That’s so sad. I can’t believe it. We were just with her, alive and seemingly well.”

  Grady straightens, those piercing green eyes lasering into me. “Did you know she was sick?”

  I baulk at that. “How could I?”

  He scrubs a palm down his face. “Maybe she mentioned it during your private chat.”

  I allow the edges of my lips to tip up with the slightest hint of a smile. The motion is shaky, but it holds. “All she did was talk about you, Gray. She asked me about your job. What your hobbies are. How long we’ve been dating. Where you live. Your dreams and goals and wishes. She wanted to know what you’re passionate about. What makes you tick. We played a one-sided game of twenty questions. She was a sponge for any drop of information on you. I was also told to keep our conversation a secret.”

  “Damn. I can almost believe she meant well.” He lets a few choice words loose. Moisture collects on his lashes when he blinks. “No mention of not feeling well?”

  “She avoided answering anything about herself. I tried to engage deeper, but nope.”

  His posture deflates. “This is very surreal for me. I don’t even know her. She birthed me, and gave me life. But what else? A bunch of bad blood and toxic memories.”

  I rest my head on his shoulder. “She’s always going to be y
our mother.”

  Grady’s throat bobs. “I know.”

  “There aren’t many moments I can share about your mom. Before yesterday, I hadn’t seen her since we were in high school. I wasn’t sure what to expect when we pulled in. That trailer park leaves a lot to be desired. A graveyard of broken dreams. But your mom was kind to me, in her own way.”

  “I’m really glad you had that time with her.”

  “So am I. It’s something I can carry with me. Doesn’t hurt to know she approves of us being together.”

  Grady scoffs. “As if she would ever deny you. That trait runs in my family.”

  “Oh my gosh.” If I wasn’t already sitting, my knees would have given out. Fresh tears blur my vision. “I can’t even. You’re so damn sweet to me, Gray.”

  His thumb wipes at my wet cheeks. “I’d be a shell without you, Sutt. This situation would throw me over the edge. Because of you, I’m able to push past the bad. I’ll be okay.”

  I lean into his touch. “We’ll always make it through, Gray. I truly believe that. Today is going to be nearly impossible. Tell me what to do. Anything you need.”

  “Just you, baby. Having you with me for this means everything. My happy something in the pit of sorrow.”

  “I’d never be anywhere else.”

  His lips find mine, sealing us in an intimate bubble. I hug my arms around him and erase any sliver of distance between us. We get lost in one another, the ache ebbing ever so slightly.

  A soft knock interrupts our tender moment. We sigh in unison and glance over to the sound. The door edges open and a nurse appears. “Is this an okay time?”

  Grady glares at her. “For what?”

  I startle at the harsh whip in his tone. “Easy, Gray.”

  His stare tracks her hesitant steps, as if she’s an enemy about to pounce. She holds up her palms and moves toward us. “I didn’t mean to disturb. This was my next stop. I’m Bianca, the nurse assigned to Camilla this evening.” She gives an awkward wave. “I just need to check her vitals. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Grady continues staring at her through narrow slits. “What could’ve changed?”

  I nudge him in the ribs. “Stop it. She’s just doing her job.”

  Bianca busies herself charting levels from the machines hooked up to Camilla. Grady rips his gaze off her and focuses those green depths on me. My stomach squeezes at the pure agony reflecting there.

  “I’m the one”—he gulps in a breath—“in charge of telling them when to kill her.”

  I hiss out an exhale. Talk about morbid. No child should have to make that decision for their parent, or anyone really. What a horrible position to be in. “Now?”

  Bianca drops her tablet and it clatters to the floor. She scoops up the device, darting across the room and out of sight.

  Grady watches her scurry off. “Not necessarily. When I’m ready.” His eyes roll. “Because that’s a humane option to offer. They’ll keep her heart beating and force air into her lungs until I’m willing to pull the plug. As if that makes it easier to let go.”

  “This will be the most difficult decision you’ll ever make. But she’s in your hands. Think about it as setting her free. We’ll do it together. I’ll be right here with you.”

  A single drop trickles down his cheek. “I’m not strong enough for this shit.”

  I grab his hand, linking our fingers in a tight web. My eyes are hot and leaking in earnest. I don’t bother wiping the salty tracks away. “You’re a damn warrior, Grady Bowen. Life has been a constant battle. But you fight and never quit. Your mom is going to a better place, Gray. You have to trust in that.”

  His nod is a slow dip. “I do. She wasn’t happy here. Hopefully her next stop is better.”

  “It will be.” I barely recognize the croak of my voice.

  The silence swoops in, dark and heavy. The weight of what needs to happen hangs in a thick curtain around us. I blink my swollen eyelids, her resting body a glow of white light. She’s so calm and ethereal. Hopefully Grady sees that.

  I lean forward to whisper in her ear. “We ran out of time. I wish we had more. Find peace. Look down on us. We’ll look up for you.” I press a palm to my mouth to trap a sob. “I promise to take good care of him for you. He’s very well loved.” I can’t say more without choking over my words. The chair squeaks when I fall into it.

  Grady kisses her forehead, his tears raining onto her pale skin. “Love you, mama.”

  I hiccup over the lump clogging my windpipe. My chest is caving in, a hurricane wreaking havoc inside of me. Grady has given up hiding his grief. The streaks flow freely down his face. I open my arms and he slumps into me. His entire body shakes in my hold. My mountain of a man is crumbling.

  Seconds bleed into minutes as we share in this wrenching misery. We stay locked together until the tears dry and the clouds part. Grady picks up a remote attached to the bed, pressing the red button.

  A flurry of activity ensues almost immediately. Three nurses stride in, followed by a doctor. He nods at Grady on his way to Camilla’s side. “Mr. Bowen?”

  He lifts his watery gaze to the doctor. “We’ve said goodbye.”

  The man’s expression is polluted with sadness. “I’m very sorry.”

  I have a sinking feeling he’ll be hearing a lot of that in the near future. Grady’s features remain stoic. He doesn’t respond. His grasp on my fingers borders on pain, but I don’t wince. I tuck my face into his neck and breathe in a bit of good.

  A nurse is flipping off switches on the cluster of equipment responsible for keeping Camilla alive. The screens go blank one after another. All alerts fall silent. Any movement ceases. There’s just… nothing.

  I don’t focus on the sluggish rise and fall of her chest. There’s no sense watching life leave her body. I keep my eyes trained to the ceiling. With a final whoosh of air, she’s gone.

  And we cry over a life lost too soon.

  Happy something #47: Receiving a spontaneous hug, especially from Grady.

  The funeral is a quiet affair.

  There’s a small crowd gathering on the peak of Silo Ridge. Rumor has it that Camilla enjoyed hiking up this clifftop as a teenager. Seems as though this is the most appropriate place to set her free. The view is stunning. A direct shot of Spring Falls is in front of us. The lush trees of Wheaton Forest decorate the landscape on our left. Miles of wild flower meadows spread across the opposite side. I’m ashamed to admit this is my first visit. One glance at Grady and I know we’ll be making the climb again soon.

  It’s nearly dusk, a warm burst of color is kissing the horizon. The dozen people in attendance are huddling near the rocky edge to watch the sunset. My parents are clutching each other tight. Their glittering eyes are focusing on the vibrant backdrop. Jace hovers nearby, his guarded expression blocking everyone out.

  A floating sensation sweeps over me. There’s serenity whisking within the pain. I wipe another set of tears off my sensitive cheeks. My skin is practically rubbed raw at this point. I can’t get the swelling in my eyelids down. No amount of cucumber slices or mud masks alleviate the burn. Grady’s features wear similar evidence of grief. I doubt anyone else can see beyond his fierce exterior. The neglected scruff lining his jaw and grooves crossing his forehead are badges of honor. That’s all he’s willing to display. His face is a blank mask. The purest proof of her impact is soul-deep.

  Camilla Bowen wasn’t a saint. The total opposite, in fact. Her choices were often dishonorable. She didn’t treat her son the way a mother should. I hardly had the chance to know her. None of that counts after the dust clears. Her death has changed us. She’s a reminder of how precious life is. As if we could so easily forget.

  Grady shifts on restless feet beside me. His gaze is downcast, broad shoulders spanning wide even with the added pressure. The urn trembles in his hold. Camilla was cremated. She once mentioned that her body doesn’t belong in the ground. Her destiny is to spend eternity soaring in the clouds. Grady believes
she was high on more than fresh air when this plan was created. He followed through with her wishes all the same.

  The blue ceramic matches her eyes, at least that’s what my dad tells me. He knew a different side of her. His memories are full of smiles and joy. I wish Grady had more of those, along with the rest of Silo Springs. A quick glance across the cliff makes me queasy. Not many people in this town were interested or willing to pay their respects. Sympathy for the deceased has been lacking. We predicted this, and don’t necessarily blame them. It makes the few distant friends and acquaintances that are filtering in more meaningful.

  Grady’s silence extends wider than usual. The load of these decisions for his mom has been an undertaking. The strain rarely leaves his muscles. There’s a constant war waging in his mind. But he doesn’t push me away. Not sure what would happen if he did. I never stray far from his side. We’ve been relying on one another to share the burden.

  I drift a palm over his forearm. “Hey, Gray.”

  His lips twitch. My heart leaps at the slight movement. “Hi, Sutt.”

  “Is it time?”

  He scans the skyline and nods. “I think so.”

  A eulogy isn’t in the cards for this affair. My dad spoke earlier, prior to our moment of quiet reflection. Further words aren’t needed. Cicadas serenade us with a melancholy lullaby. Grady exhales a long stream of pent-up jitters. He loosens the lid and shuffles forward. With a slow tip, Camilla stretches her wings. Ashes scatter in dusty spirals and get carried by the wind. She sails in every direction—from meadows and forests and waterfalls. Her final resting place is the sky.

  We step off the cliff once the final traces are welcomed up in a breeze. Grady loops an arm around my waist when I shiver. He’s so intuitive when it comes to me. I never have to worry about a thing when he’s within reach.

  Our relationship has braved a bitter trial with his mother’s passing. We’re stronger because of it, but the road is littered with rocks. He’s been broody and withdrawn this past week. I recognize the steely armor he slips behind. He resembles the man I found after moving back home. Not that anyone can blame him. But he lets that bulletproof guard off-duty when it’s just the two of us. I crave that intimate connection after watching him stonewall everyone.