Chapter 68 Bryce
“This is it,” I said to Jada as we pulled up to a warehouse just outside of downtown Dallas on Thursday night.
She was looking so pretty in a burnt orange sweater and leggings.
She had on dangling gold earrings and a necklace too.
Confusion colored her features as she looked around the craggy parking lot and rusted tin building. “Are you here to murder me?” she asked.
“No, the only devastating thing here is my good looks.”
Her laugh made me feel light. “Go off, king.”
Chuckling to myself, I got out of the car and went to let Jada out. Together, we walked to the building, where I grabbed for the tarnished handle of a heavy white door. It opened with a squeak, letting us inside.
The interior starkly contrasted the craggy, dimly lit parking lot.
Now, we were the lone guests in a smallish front lobby with stylish furniture, a coffee table with interior design magazines spread about the top, and a counter with a water cooler and coffee maker.
Statement pieces of art graced the walls—not dentist-office style pieces with no personality, but designs that captured your attention and wouldn’t let go until you’d examined them thoroughly.
Jada looked at me with surprise. “Where are we? Getting a teeth cleaning?”
I barked out a surprised laugh. “This isn’t a dentist’s office.”
“Then what is it?”
Before I had a chance to answer, the door to the waiting room opened and a woman in a long, flowing skirt swept in. Smiling behind wide-framed glasses, she said, “Bryce, Jada, welcome.” She extended her hand to Jada. “I’m Renfra Diego.”
“Renfra, are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?” Jada said, a hint of humor in her eyes.
“I think it’s better if I show you,” the woman responded. “Follow me.”
We walked behind her through the door into the massive warehouse, partitioned with walls that had no hopes of stretching to the tall ceiling. Even though we couldn't see all the sections, it was clear that each one was a different version of the same: a baby’s nursery.
Jada stared around, and then her surprised gaze landed on me. “What is this?”
I reached for her hand, loving the way her fingers slipped into mine.
“The wedding isn’t just about sealing our future; it’s planning for hers.
” She drew our linked hands to her stomach, and my heart swelled so big my ribcage must have grown to contain it.
“I know you wanted a choice, so we brought all the choices to you.”
Renfra gently added, “Bryce asked me to prepare nurseries in every style so we could get a feel for what you’d like in your new home together.”
Jada used her free hand to wipe at her eyes. “Thank you. I’m excited to see them. I promise these are happy tears.”
Renfra chuckled, and I squeezed Jada’s hand. “Let’s get started,” Renfra said.
For the next hour, we walked through the dozens of displays my designer had put together. Some of them reflected my taste—more antique pieces carefully put together to form something unique. Others were more modern, with chrome finishes, or farmhouse-style with blocky, distressed white furniture.
Even though Jada and I were to be married in days, there was still so much I didn’t know about her. Like the fact that she preferred mid-century modern stylings. (“Probably because Glamma’s house hasn’t changed since I was born,” she’d joked.)
Once Jada had selected a mix of vintage and modern nursery items, she and I walked back to the car.
“It’s strange, riding with you and not Gen,” Jada admitted as I held the passenger door open for her.
I lifted a corner of my lips. “My brothers make fun of me for having a driver.”
“Because driving is so fun,” she countered, sarcasm in her tone. “When I had a car, I was always stressed about getting in an accident, getting a ticket, running a red light... It’s a relief to have someone else take the wheel sometimes. Literally and figuratively.”
Her words got me thinking as I walked around to the front of the car.
She’d been on her own for so long, and she spent all day caring for other people—children in the daycare, her coworkers, and even the parents who entrusted her with the most important people in their lives.
A primal need to take care of her took over.
I got in and turned on the truck so it could warm up. “Hey, I’m here for you, you know,” I said, reaching across the console to hold her hand.
There was a vulnerability in her dark eyes as she looked at me. “I think I’m having trouble with the thought of relying on you fully. Maybe it’s guilt, but maybe it’s fear too... I know how quickly you can lose everyone you’ve ever counted on.” Her final words were a bitter whisper.
“That’s the thing about life,” I said. “We like to think we have control over our futures, but all we have is influence. What we choose today affects the future; it doesn’t design it.”
Jada studied me. “Doesn’t that terrify you?”
“No,” I said.
“Why not?”
Music played softly from the radio as I thought over my response.
“My mom had this saying, and my whole family tried to live by it. ‘Lead with love.’ The idea is that love can’t steer you wrong. Whether you’re afraid or angry or fearful, if you’re on the fence about what to do, if you act in love, then you’ll have made the right choice.”
I could see the words washing over her, heavy enough for her to glance down at her lap and draw a careful breath before looking back at me. “I feel like I’ve messed up so much with you, Bryce,” she whispered. “I hid things from you.”
My chest ached at the guilt her voice carried.
“You did. But you led with love, Jada, when you were honest with me. It was scary to think about losing all that support, but you did the loving thing and told the truth.” My eyes stung as I realized my mom probably would have been proud of Jada, even if she didn’t make the right choice at first. “We all mess up, but that’s the thing about love. It doesn’t demand perfection.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and I brushed it away with my thumb. Sensing that she’d reached her limit for the night, I put my truck in drive and held her hand the whole way to her grandma’s house.
When we arrived, she looked over at me with a bittersweet smile. “It’s hard to say goodbye.”
“Soon, we won’t have to,” I said.
She didn’t agree. Just whispered, “Good night,” and slipped out of the car.