Chapter 6 #3
I licked jelly and crumbs off my fingertips. “Long story short, I have to have surgery because of what I told you last night. Cutting off my spinal nerves could leave me paralyzed.”
He stared at me but said nothing.
I could tell from the context clues over the past half day that he still blamed himself for everything that happened with the wreck and my back.
But the deer running out in front of us hadn’t been his fault.
I remembered the desperation in his voice and the pain in his face as he begged to stay with me on the side of the road.
I’d pushed him away. I made him leave me. I’d even threatened him.
And I owned my decisions. I loved him beyond myself.
I softened my expression, letting my guard slip ever so slightly.
“The situation will only worsen. My normal orthopedic surgeon is retiring this month, and he referred me to the best specialist he knows. She is here in Roanoke. Things should move quickly. Then, in a couple of months, I should be all healed up and back to Charlotte I’ll go. If everything goes well.”
“It will, I’m sure of it. I’m glad they’re moving fast.” He looked down into his coffee.
“And the day before I found out about the herniated disc, is when my company let me go. They said that it wasn’t personal, just a change in structure. But you can’t tell Whit, okay?”
His gaze whipped up to meet mine. “What? Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t want him or anyone to know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have saddled you with that information.”
His lips twitched slightly.
“Secret is safe, if that’s what you want. Did you know it was coming?”
I nodded. “I ignored the inevitable. The worst part is that it’s left me without health insurance for the surgery.
I could probably qualify for some government assistance, but how long would it take?
I thought about waiting for the new doctor in Charlotte, but my doctor was insistent that I have the procedure as soon as possible.
So, I guess I’ll worry about medical payments like every other American. ”
He drank his coffee, bent over with his elbows on the table, homed in on my every word.
“Whit could pay for it.” His words were matter-of-fact.
I shook my head. “No. That’s why I don’t want him to know I lost my job. ”
“That doesn’t make sense. You have to tell him. He’ll pay for it in a heartbeat,” Bram insisted.
I held my mug. “It’s not that easy for me.
I don’t want my brother’s money. I don’t want that feeling of owing him hanging over me.
I love him, of course, but things got so weird between us after Grams died.
When I found out he’d kept buying Grams’ house from me, I was disappointed.
It cemented how far apart we are. And then I saw what he’d done to the house yesterday?—”
“It wasn’t what you thought,” he finished for me. I looked down at the wood grain on the breakfast table. I could hear the heaviness in his deep voice. “I didn’t know it would affect you so much, or I would have refused to do the work.”
“It needed updating. It’s not a museum. It’s just me being silly…”
“Julianna.” His voice sounded like a reprimand.
My eyes met his again, ready to defend myself at his tone. But what I saw in his face unraveled my anger. He wasn’t reprimanding me. His face showed a tangle of more complicated emotions, raw and exposed, like a nerve left to the open air.
“It’s never silly to chase what makes you feel safe and comfortable.”
I tried to let his words sink in before speaking. “Do you ever feel like you want things to be like they used to be?”
His jaw worked for a minute.
“In some ways. My life was never great unless it was with Whit and Grams and you. I don’t talk to my parents anymore.”
“Not at all?” Vince and Elsie Winchester were terrible people, but they were still his parents. I’d hoped they had gotten better over the years, and that their relationship had gotten better, too, for his sake.
“Nope. The why of it isn’t very easy, and maybe I’ll explain it someday.
But I get what you’re saying about Whit’s money because I don’t want my parents’ money either.
They’ve tried to throw it at me, but I don’t want anything to do with inheritances or gifts, none of it.
Everything my father has gained has come at the expense of so many people.
I have a million-dollar trust fund from my grandfather, my Dad’s father, who was a good man and made his money honestly.
That will be released when and if I get married.
But all that’s going straight to Mill Creek Aid. ”
“Mill Creek Aid?” I asked.
“It’s the foundation the community started after Dad sold the plant, and it closed down.
They helped people get back on their feet after the closure, and they still do a lot of relief work in the county now.
Every bit of my grandfather’s money will go to help the people it should, the lives my father ruined. ”
I’d never heard of Mill Creek Aid. Had they helped us after Grams lost her job at the plant? She had never said.
“No one would begrudge you for keeping that money for yourself, for your future, or your own family.”
He shook his head. “I would never be able to live with myself. I don’t need it anyway.”
“What I meant?—”
He cut me off. “Let’s get back to the original conversation here. Whit is your brother, a good man, and not my parents. He loves you. He didn’t know how to work through his grief when Grams died. Neither of you were old enough to know how to keep yourselves together.”
But I didn’t want to switch subjects.
“What did they do to you?” I whispered. We both knew, with just one look into each other’s faces, that I was speaking of his parents. He hadn’t expected me to ask because his eyes widened, then softened as he took in my expression.
I’d heard what he said about Whit, and what he said meant a lot. But my heart was breaking for whatever caused Bram to cut off his parents. How bad had they been to him? Grams knew, but she never said a word. She would only say that everyone had problems and would leave it at that.
Had they still been harming him as an adult, too?
“They aren’t good people, sweets,” he said, his timbre low. I was caught off guard by the nickname. Where had that come from?
“You think you can distract me with a cute nickname, but you are mistaken,” I lied. “I won’t beg you to tell me, but hopefully, one day, you’ll trust me enough to want to.”
He cast his eyes down, and my insides flip-flopped.
“It’s not that. I trust you,” he said. His hand covered mine on the tabletop. Electricity flowed from his skin to mine, and it was my turn to look stunned. “Now, how should we tackle today? Do you have a plan? If not, let’s make one.”
I tried to gather myself, but I couldn’t think. He squeezed my hand and removed his.
“You have too much to do. I can take care of everything myself,” I insisted. “Go to work. They need you there, I’m sure.”
“I think the forest will stay standing for one day,” he replied, getting to his feet and looking down at me with his charming smile. “I’m all yours.”
I did not want to admit it, but my heart was becoming entangled in knots that wouldn’t be easily undone. Although years had passed, we were still us—two souls with a connection that defied common sense.