Chapter 28
Braxton
My attention shifts from Gracie’s blank mask to the mutinous glower on Esther’s face, but before I have the chance to say anything, she marches past me, not sparing Gracie another look. She viciously slams the door behind her, the glass rattling in the doorframe.
I’m not sure what I hoped for by coming in today, but I just knew I couldn’t go another day without seeing Gracie—and not just through a window, leering like a creeper.
I could have tried calling her again, but it didn’t feel right. Even if she had unblocked me, this conversation needed to happen in person. But now Esther has completely fucked it up.
I slowly turn to face Gracie. She’s watching me, her expression impassive, but she can’t quite hide the flicker of anger behind her eyes. Her blue-grays are usually an even balance of color, but when she’s mad, they get as dark as stormclouds rolling across the sky.
“Braxton,” she greets coolly. “That’s some timing.” I don’t know if I’m imagining the tremble in her voice, but I hope I’m not. It means I’m still affecting her, and I will take anything over apathy.
I drink in the sight of her, my throat tight with emotion.
Her cheeks are a little leaner than they were at Christmas, but the dark smudges under her eyes are gone.
Otherwise, she doesn’t look any different, and having her right here, within reach, but knowing she won’t welcome my touch is as gutting as having her gone.
Impatience stamps itself across Gracie’s features, making me realize just how long I’ve been standing here in silence.
I step closer, but the look in her eyes freezes me in place.
I stop and shove my hands into the pockets of my SCFC jacket, reminding myself to follow her lead.
Gracie tracks the movement, her mouth pressing into a thin line.
I won’t force her into talking to me, but I can’t keep staying away.
Neither option is going to get me anywhere.
“Gracie, I…” I blink, feeling like I’m wading through quicksand, every single word I’ve been practicing for weeks sinking before I can grasp onto it.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you since you got back,” I admit.
“But I didn’t…I guess I was working up the nerve. The last time we talked—”
“You mean on Christmas?” she interjects, and I’m surprised her words don’t actually slice through skin; her tone is that sharp.
I close my eyes, hating this. Gracie’s defenses were hard to breach when we first met, and it took months before she’d even go out with me.
But once she was mine—once she let me in—she was the softest, warmest person I’ve ever met.
It was almost like she had been waiting her whole life to let all that love out on someone, but now…
She’s rebuilt her shields and reinforced them with an impenetrable steel. She’s so guarded now, and I hate that I’m to blame; that I’ve added to the pain she already carries.
“Right,” I agree quietly. “Christmas. I wanted to know if we could sit down and talk, but…” I look over my shoulder at the door Esther left through, my brow furrowing, my mind working through everything I just heard.
“The perfume…” I gasp, air burning all the way down to my lungs as renewed horror fills me. “You knew because—”
“I smelled it on you,” she cuts me off, her lip curling in a sneer.
“Twice, actually. Once on that jacket.” Her eyes track down, and I resist the urge to yank the thing off and set it on fire.
“But the second time was the real kicker. You turned me down, stood me up, and then climbed into my bed smelling of another woman.” Gracie’s smile isn’t pleasant.
It feels like jagged nails are dragging down my spine, and my stomach drops like I missed a step.
Oh, fuck.
I knew I had so much to make up for, but this….It feels worse than breaking my promises to her because it means she knew I was lying before Christmas even happened.
She already knew.
“You never said anything,” I murmur, each word tinged with desperation.
“Why was it my responsibility to demand your honesty?” Gracie bites out.
“Why was it my responsibility to hold you accountable to the commitments you made to me?” She laughs—a bitter sound that echoes through the empty shop.
Movement catches my eye, and I look over as Bridget appears in the doorway to the backroom.
Her eyes are flinty when they land on me, but she doesn’t come closer—a silent support for her friend.
I focus back on Gracie, my throat bobbing on a swallow. “I didn’t want her, Rumpel.” Her expression draws tight at the nickname, her brows knitting together. “I never wanted her. You have to believe that.”
“Why would I?” she demands harshly. “Actions speak so much louder than words, Braxton, and your actions were screaming that you wanted Paisley.” She spits the name out, and I wince, but Gracie’s not done.
“Thanksgiving”—she holds up a finger—“you pulled away from me the moment you saw her, and you hesitated when you told her you loved me. You hesitated, Braxton.” Another finger goes up.
“You told me that you would give me full transparency. I told you how uncomfortable I was after what I overheard, and you…” Her eyes are glittering like misty diamonds, and I know she’s on the verge of losing it.
“You promised me, Braxton, and it only took a week for you to break that.”
My mouth falls open, but another of her fingers springs up.
“And then you took her on a date.” Her mouth is a harsh line, her expression mocking. “Well, it was two dates, I guess. A cozy picnic, and then—”
Gracie sucks in a sharp breath, cutting herself off, and Bridget moves to her side, their shoulders almost touching.
She sends her a quick look of appreciation before turning back at me.
“You mentioned an accident and how bad it was, but you weren’t ready to talk to me about it.
I respected that. I wanted to be there for you, and I tried, but you shut me out so quickly.
You never even gave me the chance, but you didn’t have any problem turning to her. ”
“Gracie—”
“I have never been so hurt by anyone in my life, Braxton,” she tells me with raw honesty, and I watch helplessly as a tear tracks down her cheek.
“Never. Because my parents? They never promised me anything they couldn’t give.
I knew exactly where I stood with them, but you?
” She deflates right in front of me, sagging against Bridget.
“We can’t go back,” she whispers. “There is no going back.”
“I know,” I say hoarsely, and I mean that.
There’s no taking this back. Our relationship has irrevocably changed, and even if she forgives me, this won’t be something that’s forgotten—by either of us.
“But please, let me explain. Let me tell you where my head was at and why. This was never about Paisley, no matter what it looked like.”
Gracie inhales deeply, her eyes falling shut.
“Maybe,” she murmurs. “I know that we need to, just for closure.” My whole body revolts at that one word, but I clench my jaw, locking every word inside, knowing arguing will get me nowhere.
“But not here. Not now. I thought I was ready to face you, but—” She clamps her lips together, her throat working on a rough swallow.
“When?” I ask desperately. “I’ll be there. Just tell me where and when.”
Gracie’s expression is resolved, but when she lifts her lashes, her eyes are full of devastation. I know she thinks we’re done. She believes we’re over, and there’s no coming back. She’s not fighting anymore, not for us, and I don’t blame her, not when I let her down so absolutely.
I didn’t fight when I was supposed to, but it’s my turn now.
I’ll prove to her that we’re meant to be. I’ll show her this isn’t the reason our relationship ends. Not when I know we’re supposed to be together.
“I’ll message you,” Gracie says vaguely, her voice cracking. “Just…Go, Braxton. Please.”
“Here you are,” my mom announces, setting a full plate in front of me—ground beef casserole, with buttery beans and roasted broccoli.
Dad follows after her, three iced teas precariously balanced between his hands.
He sets them down without spilling a drop, shooting Mom an I told you so look.
She rolls her eyes as she takes her seat across from me, and Dad sits at the head of the table to my right.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, picking up my knife and fork. “Looks good.”
“Analise has settled back into school,” Mom says as she spears a bean with her fork. “She said she has a new roommate in her dorm this semester. Something about the other girl losing her scholarship.”
Dad grimaces. “Not a bad thing…although Annie could use someone pulling her away from her books once in a while.”
Mom laughs. “You say that now, but one day, a boy will sweep her off her feet, and you’ll be singing a different tune.”
Dad glowers at her before turning to me. “How’s your week been, Brax?”
I don’t answer straight away, aimlessly pushing my food around my plate. My parents share a meaningful look.
“You alright, Brax?” Mom gently asks. “You’ve been here over an hour, and you’ve barely said a word.”
I take my time, forking up some casserole and sliding it into my mouth, acting like it’s not burning every last taste bud off my tongue. Dad shoots me a knowing look, his mouth twitching, but Mom doesn’t look away, her jaw set stubbornly as she waits for me to finish chewing.
I sigh, admitting, “I saw Gracie today.”
Mom’s fork clatters against her plate when it falls from her limp fingers. “You did? Is she okay?” she asks, leaning forward. “How did it go?”
“Let him get a word in, Rae,” Dad grunts, sipping his drink, and Mom shoots him a dirty look.
My knuckles go white when I clench my hand. “Yes. No.” I shake my head. “Esther got there first.”