Chapter 5 Naomi
I cut through the alley behind my house, holding my breath and pretending I don’t care about Tyler Brady.
How dare he even show up at my parents' house after seventeen years of nothing?
These past few weeks have been the hardest for the entire family. Sitting in the living room and debating whether it’s time to let the man who raised you and your brother die is the kind of agony I don’t wish on anyone.
Deep down, I get why the doctors ultimately insisted on pulling the plug. It was a long, draining brain death, and Dad wouldn’t have wanted to exist like that—hooked up to the machines, stuck between worlds while we watched him fade away.
Allowing him to leave with dignity was the best option.
And now that he’s gone, it feels like our family isn’t complete, as if there’s this massive void where he used to be. It’s like our family’s puzzle is missing a giant piece, and I'm clueless about how to fit us back together again. It’s weighing on my shoulders—this responsibility.
Tyler Brady entering the picture on top of it seems cruel and unnecessary.
After our conversation, I realized I couldn’t be in that house anymore. I left to get some air but, instead, find myself on the way to our old haunt—the park bench where he carved forever into the wood with a rusty pocketknife and way too much confidence.
That was another lifetime ago, back when I thought people kept promises and didn’t walk away when things got real.
When the park finally comes into view, the sun has already reached the horizon, and the people there are packing up their belongings.
I spot him right away. He sits in the distance on that same bench, the fading sun lighting up his messy brown hair while he talks on his phone.
Great. Just great.
I come to a halt and consider turning around. I don’t have it in me to talk to him again. I feel like an old dress that’s coming apart at the seams from hanging in the closet way too long.
He looks up, and my heart does a backflip.
I hate it. Hate myself for having a reaction to him after all this time.
"Hey," he calls, ending the call. "We meet again."
"Wasn’t my intention," I supply coldly. My chest grown tighter as I cross the grass toward the bench. There’s a thin edge of desperation in the way he fidgets with his phone.
We’re adults now, I remind myself. I can handle this. But all the years that have passed collapse into a single moment, and I’m eighteen again, still figuring out how to breathe in his presence.
He stands when I’m close, all long limbs and tattoos and that rockstar attitude, as familiar as the old desert wind and just as impossible to catch.
I slow down, wanting him to be the one who speaks first.
But Tyler’s quiet. His blue eyes meet mine, and I’m not sure if I want to slap him or hug him. His mouth opens, but just like earlier, nothing comes out. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it. The distance between us feels like miles, and it’s all his doing.
I cross my arms on my chest and stare at him.
He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was, and finally mutters, "Naomi. I didn’t think—"
The rest of his sentence gets lost as I look away, my eyes on the sunset. "I didn’t expect to see you here."
"I can leave," Tyler mumbles as if he’s doing me a favor by even offering.
I contemplate, wondering that if I pretend I don’t care, it’ll come true. I hear him exhale, a shaky, uncertain sound that pulls me back.
There’s a long pause where the world seems to hold its breath. No way I’m letting him off that easy. "No. I’ve got something to say."
The park empties out, kids and parents vanishing into the orange glow of the setting sun. The place is all ours now, just like it used to be. We stand there, two ghosts clinging to a past neither of us knows how to bury.
Tyler shoves his hands into his pockets, and I see his lips press into a tight line. My heart is a pounding drum in my chest, but I keep my voice steady. This is it. I get to unload everything that’s been dragging me down.
"Why, Ty?" I say, the words breaking through like floodwaters. "We had it all planned. A lifetime together. You and me. And then—" I can’t finish the sentence, because saying it out loud makes it real, makes all the anger come to the surface.
He shifts like he’s trying to dodge the blame, but I’m not letting him off the hook. Not this time.
"You didn’t even have the guts to say goodbye. You just left." My voice is sharper than I thought it would be. "Like a coward."
Tyler lowers his gaze. I’m not used to seeing him this way—a little defeated. Not the guy who used to light up every room he walked into.
"I should have talked to you."
"Damn right," I snap. "I bet my life on you, Tyler Brady."
"I didn’t know what to say," Tyler admits. "I didn’t want to be the one to—"
"To what?" I cut him off. "To choose for me? Because that’s exactly what you did. You made the choice for both of us."
He winces, and I see it hit him. Good. Let him feel it. The hurt, the betrayal, everything he’s put me through. I drop my arms to my sides. My fists clench, and I take a step back, needing the space to keep myself together.
"I was eighteen years old, Naomi. I thought I was doing what was best," he supplies softly. "You had your future mapped out. I didn’t want to be the one to mess that up."
"Mess that up?" I’m practically yelling now, the words too hot to hold in. "We were supposed to be in it together. Remember?"
Tyler nods, slow and regretful, and it makes me hate him and love him all at once. The feelings are so tangled, I can barely see straight.
"I didn’t know how to explain." His voice cracks, just enough for me to hear it. "I believed I was doing right by you."
"Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?"
I turn away, fighting the tears that threaten to give me away. I don’t want him to see how much it still hurts.
"That wasn’t my intention."
"Right."
The silence that follows is heavier than anything I’ve ever felt.
"I am sorry," he whispers. "I should have said that a long time ago. You deserved much more, and I was an asshole."
Those are all the right words, but somehow, they don’t reach me. Somehow, seventeen years of hate and pain and not knowing why he did what he did has made me numb on the inside.
I choke back my fury and face him, wondering why he had to pick today, of all days, to show up. "That’s right. You are an asshole, Ty."
The corner of his mouth tilts up a little.
"I don’t think it’s funny," I say flatly.
"No, it’s not," he agrees.
Another long, awkward pause.
"How long are you staying in town this time?" I ask, my voice hard and unfriendly. It hits me that I care way too much about the answer. "Or are you going to disappear again without saying goodbye?"
Tyler lifts his head, and there’s something raw in the way he looks at me, like he’s just as lost as I am. The sun dips lower, dropping long shadows over us and the surrounding nature.
"I just finished working on a score," he says like he’s asking for permission to stay. "And I’m sure you know the band’s on hiatus."
Of course. The band. The band that kept him busy all these years. I feel a bitter laugh creeping up but swallow it back down. "So you’re killing time?"
"I suppose." He steps toward me, then stops. "Is that a problem?"
It is and it isn’t. I can’t figure out which. "I’m surprised you came back." I don’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it does.
"It didn’t feel right not to see your dad off."
"Apparently, it takes someone dying to get you back to Sageview Ridge."
"Don’t do this, Naomi."
"Don’t do what?"
"Don’t put more guilt on me. I already feel shitty."
"As you should… It’s been a long time, Ty. A long time for you to finally show up."
"Maybe too long." His eyes meet mine, and they’re full of something I don’t want to name.
"What do you really want?" The question feels like a challenge, a dare for him to come up with something that makes sense.
"I don’t know," he admits. "I thought maybe… I wanted to see how you were. If we could talk."
"You mean if I could forgive you?" The confession stings my tongue, and I can tell by his face that it stings him too.
"I don’t want to leave things unsaid between us. I owe you an apology."
"I don’t care," I blurt out. "I’ve moved on." It’s a lie.
The crunch of gravel underfoot breaks the spell as he takes another tentative step in my direction. The sound is loud in the empty park. He shifts, kicks the rocks with the tip of his boot, the movement sending a small cloud of dust into the air.
"Everything’s different now," he whispers.
"How?"
"I’m not as… Tied up with the work."
"So work is your excuse for not reaching out to me all these years."
"No."
"Then what is?"
"You not forgiving me."
I take a deep breath, trying to let that sink in.
Trying to let him back in. The things I want to say become muddled, and I end up with nothing.
The park bench sits empty, the paint chipped and worn from years of desert heat and neglect.
I look at it, then back at Tyler. "I should go," I say instead, turning away before I change my mind. "I have a house full of people."
I walk away, feeling exposed and raw and more alive than I have in years.