14. Branton
We’re going home.
I have no idea what that means anymore. I thought I was building one with my daughter only for that to be ripped away.
Not once but twice.
I haven’t lied to Blake, but an omission is a lie, isn’t it?
There were a couple of times I could have revealed everything except what I have to tell her could destroy her—her family—more than me pushing them from my life did.
It’s the last skeleton in my graveyard and I’m the only one breathing who knows.
Last man standing.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one in the world. The only one to feel the pain I live with every day.
Do I have the courage to speak the truth?
Should I when the truth will have more people living with the pain of losing Laura?
“You’ve gone quiet again.”
Turning, I find Blake watching me. “Just thinking about your family.”
“They’re yours too.”
“Not really. I lost the right to claim them when I cut them out of my life, didn’t I?”
“That’s for each of them to decide. But I know for a fact Dad and Mom would never turn their backs on you.”
“I feel bad for not reaching out. For not answering their calls.”
“Are you going to tell them the truth?”
“When I apologize, yes. I think I have to.”
“Will you do that when we go this week?”
“I should.” My gaze moves off to the trees and the sunbeams playing through the leaves. “I’m not sure I have the guts to do it though.”
“I’ll be there if you want.”
“I don’t want to lean on you. I shouldn’t need to lean on you.”
“And you won’t have to forever. But right now, if you need me there, I will be.”
“You shouldn’t forgive me so easily.”
“Everyone who knows, or believes they know, how close we were thinks I should never forgive you. I don’t have the same view. As I see it, you did the only thing you could to protect your child. I can’t fault you for that. There’s no forgiveness necessary for that. I do have to forgive you for not at least explaining why you had to step away from us. If you’d told me, I would have understood.”
“You’re amazing.” I’ve never hidden my awe of Blake, how much I admire her. Even when my infatuation led to embarrassing teenage moments, she never once made me feel bad about my obvious feelings.
Her handling of her younger brothers’ best friend’s inept attempts to get her attention only made me love her deeper.
And now, with everything I’ve put us through, she’s still dealing with me and my issues with grace, with care, with her ability to forgive.
“I think you’re pretty amazing too. It’s why I know you didn’t do anything to hurt anyone. Not on purpose.”
“I still should have shown more care.”
“Sounds to me like you were barely surviving. Not sure you had the resources to show more care.”
“If I knew then what I know now, I would have done things differently.”
“Wouldn’t we all? Hindsight is wonderful for making better choices but I believe you made the best choice you could at the time with the information you had. Would I have liked a heads up? Sure. Did I deserve one? Maybe. But we hadn’t made definite plans, we’d skirted the subjects, talked abstractly about the future and what we wanted without really committing to them.”
“I felt committed.”
“I did too. And yet, neither of us fought for those commitments. We let them go.”
“I shoved them to the back of my mind. Tried to not think about them or you. I couldn’t. It hurt too much to do it and I was already battling heartache every day.”
“You’re still battling it. I know me telling you to stop won’t make it happen but stop beating yourself up about the way things ended between us. I’m letting it go. You need to do the same.”
“I repeat, you’re amazing. I don’t deserve your loyalty or friendship, but I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it if you’ll let me.”
“You don’t have to earn it, I’m freely giving it.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
I do. It’s why I want her here, why I want to share all my skeletons even if they hurt her. Because this time I’ll be there to support her, to guide her through the pain I unwillingly inflict with the secret I need to tell her.
“What are we cooking for dinner?”
Her change of subject gives me a reprieve. A few more hours, days if I’m lucky, where I can hold the final piece of the past I need to share with her. “Want to go out?”
“Leave here?” She points to the ground at her feet.
“Yes.”
“You mean go somewhere else? Leave the property?”
I grin. “Yes, smart ass, leave the property.”
“Okay. What does this little town have to offer?”
“Not so little.”
“Not big either.”
“No, but there are plenty of choices. Pizza, seafood, Italian, burgers, there’s a number of bar and grills if you want a steak.”
“How are we getting there? I didn’t see a car in the driveway.”
“It’s in the garage.”
“Hiding like its owner?”
“No. It’s not mine. Gannon keeps it here for tooling around in.”
“All right, we have transport, now what do we want to have? Or should we tool around and see what takes our fancy?”
“Have you been to Parry Sound before?”
“No. And Walker barely slowed down on the drive through town so I didn’t get a good look around. If you’re up to showing me, I’d love to see where you’ve been spending your time.”
“You’ve seen where I’ve spent my time. The grocery store delivers. I have hardly left the property, except to hike since I got here two years ago.”
“You… I… What the hell, Bran!”
“You said I was hiding, and I guess I was.” The thought doesn’t sit well. I know I put myself here, kept away from my old life, old friends, but until right now I hadn’t realized exactly how true Blake’s words were. “I need to get my life back,” I mutter as I reach for Blake’s hand and tug her behind me as I head through the house.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To find my life. To find me.”
“Are you lost?”
“I think so. And for a while I was okay with that. Now, not so much.”
“And I’m going to be your partner in crime for this life hunt?”
Her question brings me up short. Turning, I study her expression. “You don’t want to help me find my new life?”
“What I want isn’t what matters, Bran. What do you want?”
“I want to do what you said. Live again. And I want to do it with you.”
“As your friend and possibly your coach.”
“Definitely my coach. And my friend. But I hope over time I can convince you to let me be more.”
“Bran.”
“I’m not asking or expecting that now. But I think I should make my intentions clear. I want on your team. I want in your life. And eventually, I want in your bed.”
“That’s a lot of want.”
“I haven’t let myself think about anything other than the hell my life was until you showed up with a bucket-wielding Oakley. Now, it’s all I can think about. I let someone else dictate who I was, who I should be, then rip it all away, and I didn’t have, couldn’t find, the courage to pull myself out of the dark pit I fell into.”
“And you’ve found that courage?”
“No. I’ve found the light.” I step closer, lift my free hand, and cradle her jaw. “You, Blake. You are my light. You always were. And for a long time, I refused to let you shine on me. I won’t be doing that ever again.”
Dropping my hand, I give hers a tug with my other and lead her outside, toward the detached garage.
“Shouldn’t we get changed? Grab our coats?” she asks, with a small chuckle. “Maybe I could put some shoes on over my socks?”
“What?” I glance back to see her socked feet. “Shit! Sorry. Yes. Let’s get coats and boots and whatever else we might need for a night on the town.”
“A night on the town? Sounds like I should bring my dancing shoes.”
“Do you want to go dancing? I don’t know if there’s—” Her laughter cuts me off. “Okay, that was a joke. Right?”
Blake nods, her laughter gone but her mouth is still stretched wide. “Yes, that was a joke.”
“Told you I was rusty.”
“Maybe a little.” She pulls on our joined hands. “C’mon, let’s get ready and lock up the house. We can spend the afternoon tooling around town in Gannon’s car then find somewhere to eat.”
The idea of exploring with Blake lights me up like nothing has in too long to remember. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For being you. For helping me. For not hating me.”
“I could never hate you.”
I hear her, believe she means it, but I’m not sure she’ll feel the same when she finds out I unwittingly stole something from her and her family.