Chapter 34 Braxton
Braxton
Gracie brushes past as I hold the door open for her, her scent filling my lungs—vanilla and jasmine. Her arm brushes my middle, and it feels like I’ve stuck my finger in a power socket, electricity sizzling through my veins.
I step outside after her, the frigid night air caressing my cheeks but doing nothing to cool me down. My mind is a whirlwind of chaos, full of disbelief at what Paisley and Esther had the guts to do—like any of this is Gracie’s fault when she was the one most hurt by my actions.
And Paisley’s.
The veil has well and truly lifted. It already had, but seeing her in action today—and her mother—I know the girl I knew in high school is long gone, if she ever existed at all.
The door closes behind me, muffling the noise from inside Benson’s, leaving us alone.
I fall into step behind Gracie as she heads to the corner of the building, stepping into the small glow from a streetlight overhead.
She leans back against the wall, her eyes finding mine as she watches me come to a stop in front of her.
My hands are loose at my sides, my breathing even and hiding the way my heart thunders in my chest. There’s still so much I want to say to her, but the words keep getting lost on the way to my lips. Gracie’s expression is patient, her eyes steady as she watches me.
I swallow, my mouth dry. “I didn’t know she was back. I would’ve warned you if I knew.”
Gracie dips her chin, eyes fastened to my face. She doesn’t say a word for the longest time, but I don’t blink, letting her see the sincerity on my face.
“I believe you.”
My shoulders loosen a fraction. “I would understand if you didn’t,” I say roughly. “After everything that’s happened.”
Gracie looks away, her expression contemplative.
Before she says a word, a shiver racks her body.
Without thought, I tug my hoodie off and step forward, yanking it over her head.
Gracie tries to protest, waving me off, but I keep going until she’s glaring up at me, the hoodie pooling loosely around her neck.
“I’m fine,” she grumbles. I don’t argue, just raising an eyebrow and staring her down. Eventually, she rolls her eyes, stuffing her arms into the sleeves.
“Thank you,” I tell her, and I know I should step back, give her some space, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I press a hand to the wall beside her head, crowding her, leaning in close and inhaling deeply.
Gracie narrows her eyes but doesn’t comment, changing the subject. “A professor, huh?”
I grimace. “I found out on New Year’s Day. I would’ve told you, but—”
“I was already gone,” she finishes, and my ribs squeeze in so tight that it feels like bone is puncturing my lungs.
“Right,” I mutter, glancing down. “You were gone.” There’s a long pause where neither of us says a word. “I’m sorry Paisley came after you like that. You didn’t deserve it. And what Esther said about you not knowing the meaning of family? It’s not true.”
Gracie lowers her lashes, hiding her eyes from me. “I don’t know about that,” she murmurs. “I only learned what it’s like to truly belong to a family since meeting you, and look how that turned out.”
“That was on me,” I tell her fiercely. “I was so confident that I could handle anything the fire department threw at me. I was…I got cocky. Arrogant.” I run a hand through my hair. “I thought I knew better than anyone else, but I never imagined—” I bite my words off, looking down the quiet street.
“I get why it happened,” Gracie says, mouth turning down.
“I don’t blame you for any of that. I can’t even imagine what you must have gone through that day.
” She looks up at me, eyes shining with hurt.
“But I guess I’m still just struggling with you and her.
” She points back at Benson’s, her hand shaking slightly.
Gracie and I have talked about the accident and Allison, and the black hole I fell into, but we’ve avoided talking about this. It has seemed easier to avoid it, not wanting to muddy the waters of the shaky truce we have built.
It has always been coming, though, brewing silently under each word and look. There is no way I will ever be able to win back our future if everything isn’t laid out on the table, but I never imagined it going down like this.
When her eyes come back to mine, my breath catches in my throat at the agony bleeding through. I drop my chin, closing my eyes—not to shut out her pain, but to let exactly what I did sink in.
My intentions were never to let Paisley in, but my passivity got the same results. Anyone who saw us that night would have assumed we were together, especially in the movie theater, and Paisley herself assumed that it meant something.
No matter what else happened, I betrayed Gracie. That’s on me. No one else. I didn’t just let another woman into our relationship; I also let that woman believe she had a right to be there.
“I don’t understand,” Gracie continues quietly, voice trembling, “how you could so easily dismiss me when I told you how she made me feel.” She drops her eyes, shoulders dropping so low that it seems like she might sink into the ground under our feet.
“You didn’t see what you were doing to me. You didn’t want to see it.”
I inhale deeply, absorbing all of it, knowing I deserve every ounce of it. “I pulled away from you,” I admit in a hushed voice. “I used Paisley as an excuse to hide from…everything.”
Gracie tries not to react, but she can’t quite stop the flinch. She jerks in my hold, trying to wrench free, but I lean in, my chest brushing hers. “Please, Gracie. Listen. Please.” My throat tries to close up, the words gravelly as I force them out.
She goes still, and I slide my hand from her chin down to her throat, cupping her gently, my thumb resting on her fluttering pulse.
“I was wrong,” I whisper brokenly. “So fucking wrong. I realized within days, but I…Gracie, I have no excuse for bulldozing over your boundaries. You didn’t ask for much, and I…
” I sigh heavily. “I thought I knew her. I thought she was the girl I grew up with, and I was deluded enough to think you would come around.”
Gracie scoffs. “She told you that she wished you would have waited for her, and you wanted me to come around? You cuddled her,” she accuses with a dark scowl. “You held her hand!”
Each accusation whips out at me, flaying me open.
“I did,” I admit. “It was after that first counseling session. I was out of my mind and looking for any kind of a distraction. I had to drive home, and I—” I duck my head, pressing my temple to hers.
“I couldn’t face getting in a car and driving.
Not after reliving what happened to Allison. ”
“That doesn’t explain it, Braxton,” she says sharply. “It sounds like an excuse.” She tries to pull away, but I hold onto her.
“Please, Gracie.” I’m not above begging, too far gone to cling to my pride.
“I was so numb. To everything that was happening. I should have pulled away, I know that. I should have— Fuck.” I look away, trying to organize my thoughts.
“I felt sick to my stomach, knowing I’d crossed a line I couldn’t come back from.
I convinced myself it didn’t mean anything, even knowing it would mean everything to you.
” Her eyes are brimming with tears, gray clouding over any sign of blue. “I’m so sorry, Gracie. So sorry.”
There’s a long pause, but she’s not pulling away anymore, her breath soft and warm against my cheek as she watches me. “You told her about the house. About me.”
“That night, I was drunk,” I mumble, shame heating my cheeks. “And stupid. I was so fucking stupid, Gracie. I was missing you, knowing I had to tell you the truth and not knowing how. I was being a coward, letting you hide from me. I knew something was wrong, but I just hoped…”
“You hoped that I would never find out.” Her words are broken as she drops her head, pressing her forehead to my shoulder, and I don’t resist the urge to drag her fully into my arms, holding her tight.
Gracie doesn’t move for the longest moment, but then her arms wrap loosely around my waist. “You’re a walking cliche,” she mumbles, and I can’t help the dry chuckle that escapes.
“I feel like you’re giving me the it’s not you, it’s me speech. ”
I squeeze her until she squeaks in protest. “I am,” I tell her easily. “It was never you or anything you did.”
She makes a noncommittal sound. “I know I have issues,” she admits grudgingly. “I’m working on them.”
I hide my smile in her hair. “I know, baby. Maybe we can work on our issues together.”
Gracie hums quietly, her fingers twisting into the fabric of my shirt, still tense in my arms. “I’m scared,” she confesses. “What if it happens again? I don’t know if I can do this a second time.”
I can’t blame her for that fear. It is the first real challenge we have faced as a couple, and I fumbled so badly that her trust is completely shattered.
My eyes burn at the pain I’ve put this girl through, pushing her into choices she never would have made otherwise.
I chased her from her home, her family, making her think that she wasn’t my first and only choice.
I clench my hands, my knuckles grazing against the cold brick. I made Gracie doubt my feelings for her and her own worth, and I can never take those months back.
“I can’t promise that there won’t be hard times,” I say gruffly, blinking hard to clear my watery vision. “But I can make a different kind of promise.”
Gracie pulls back, looking up at me with her own eyes bright with tears. They’re full of devastation, but there’s a kindling of hope there, too—almost impossible to see, and hiding just behind her hurt. “What?” she whispers, voice choked, pleading for me to make this right for us.
To fix what I broke.