7. Brandon
CHAPTER 7
The moon cast an eerie glow over the dense urban landscape.
Our squad moved with stealth and precision through the streets, but suddenly gunfire erupted from a warehouse in the distance. We immediately returned fire. Amidst the chaos, Nathan stumbled, his hand pressing against the wound to stem the bleeding. Blood oozed through his fingers. "Hawk!" His voice was barely above a whisper, drowning in the sounds of battle. "I've been hit!"
I rushed to his side, but before I could reach him, debris tore through my shoulder, sending me crashing to the ground, the blood was warm and sticky.
"Hawk!" Nathan's voice was strained with desperation and agony. "You need to get up!"
In the blink of an eye, Nathan was struck once more, and his expression twisted in agony. My heart raced as I witnessed two teammates join forces to save him.
My lack of action could have resulted in his death during that mission, and I will never be able shake off the guilt.
It’s been a month since I returned from the mission. I stayed in the city for a bit to recover from my injuries, because the last thing I wanted was for Alessa to see me the way I was.
While my physical injuries have healed, I know that I can never truly recover. Inside, I am numb and shattered from the trauma. Every night is a battle to fall asleep without seeing Nathan's lifeless body on the ground, his hand clutching at his stomach as he bled out. The images of fallen soldiers and myself pulling their tags haunt me constantly. There is no way to heal these wounds, but deep down I knew I had to return home. My family would welcome me with open arms; even if I was broken beyond repair, they would still love me.
My heart stops as I see her standing before me, her hazel eyes piercing into my very soul. The woman in front of me is a vision, radiating with the same breathtaking beauty that entranced me two years ago. But now there's a steely glint in her gaze, mixed with a simmering hatred that cuts through me like shards of glass.
She must think I'm nothing but a cruel, selfish asshole who left her behind the moment I got what I wanted from her. And she's right, I am. Seeing her now, it's clear how much I hurt her by disappearing on her.
As the soft light of the chandelier casts a warm glow on her face, tears form in her eyes and threaten to fall. Before I can even utter an apology, Spencer's voice breaks through the tense silence, calling out for her.
“Anya?”
She glances at him, but the fire in her eyes burns even brighter. I wonder how the two know each other and how long she’s been in this small town. Anya didn’t strike me as the type to settle in a small town like Meadowvale, unless she has genuine reasons to be here.
Alessa is standing beside her, allowing her to hold her hand. I find that surprising because my daughter shies away from strangers. Why is she so comfortable, allowing Anya to hold her?
“Spencer.” She spits my brother’s name. Keeping her chin high, she walks to the table and helps Alessa in her seat before taking the chair across from mine. Her gaze is still pinned on Spencer when she says, “Odd way to meet you again.”
My brother smiles and leans back in his seat. “I could say the same about you. You look as stunning as ever.”
Anya scoffs. “You still look like an asshole.”
Everyone around the table pauses, their gazes floating between Anya and Spencer. Seriously, what history do these two have, and why do I feel so uneasy that she hasn’t said a word to me? It’s as if she’s choosing to ignore my existence.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jackson,” she says to my mother. “Please forgive my outburst, it's just that…” She eyes Alessa before going on, as if suddenly conscious of her choice of words. "It seems your son and I have a complicated past."
My mother narrows her brows, clearly as confused as I am. “You two know each other?”
“We dated each other for two years,” Anya explains. “He, uh, turned out to also be involved with his best female friend.” She stresses the last three words.
My blood curdles. What? Spencer is the ex she kept ranting about the night we met? The one who I agreed was an asshole? No freaking way.
We’d…I slept with my brother’s ex? I crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed. I still believe that he was a total dick for cheating on her, but she’s his ex. She was—is—off limits.
“Is that true, Spencer?” my mother asks, putting more dishes on the table. She doesn’t sound impressed. “What else don’t I know? Do you hit women too?”
My brother groans. “I would never.”
“Well, I hope it was some misunderstanding.” She sighs and shakes her head. “We’ll talk about that later. I don’t want dinner ruined because of you. I’ll go get your father.”
She storms away, her footsteps heavy with the anger she's suppressing. Our mother had always raised us to be gentlemen, teaching us to treat our partners with respect. Even though I'm not one for dating, I still hold women in high regard. However, something went wrong with Spencer. He goes against everything our mother taught us. It's been his downfall, and she won't go easy on him for it.
“Christ,” Spencer says, his voice heavy with annoyance. “Anya, you shouldn’t have said that. It’s been years.” His words are sharp and pointed, lacking any hint of remorse. I feel a surge of anger towards him, but I quickly swallow it down. I can't risk showing any sign of weakness in front of my family. Before I left for home, my therapist told me that I might experience some elevated rates of anger caused by the incidence of PTSD.
Anya's gaze locks onto mine, her eyes piercing and unyielding. "So, you're his brother?" she asks, her tone cool and curious.
My throat tightens as the memories flood back to me. It's been two long years, but not a day has gone by where I haven't thought about her. Thought about what could have been if fate hadn't intervened and sent me on that mission.
I give a small nod in response.
She scoffs. "You bear some resemblance to him. I was such a fool not to have noticed it before."
Spencer looks back and forth between us. "Wait, you two know each other?"
I open my mouth to speak, but Anya beats me to it. "Yes, we do. And I won't be explaining the details."
My brother narrows his eyes at me, trying to make connections. But since Anya doesn’t want to disclose anything, I can't tell him the whole truth. He might not react well if he found out about my past involvement with his ex-girlfriend – she's supposed to be off-limits. It’s an unspoken rule between us.
"So, what brings you here to Meadowvale?" Spencer leans in closer to the table.
"Work." She clearly not in the mood to engage a conversation with Spencer.
To alleviate the tension at the table, Mr. White interjects and asks Spencer if he will stay in town for long. They chat in the background whilst Anya’s eyes meet mine, they are filled with a mix of sadness and anger.
My knuckles turn white as I clench my fists under the table. She sits across from me, her posture straight and confident, making me feel uneasy in her presence. My heart is working overtime and my blood is pumping faster than normal.
There’s so much I need to explain to her, but I wonder if it’s of any use now. I would never have made a move on her if I’d known that she and Spencer were exes.
Shit.
I run a hand over my hair. If anyone finds out about us, we’ll be the talk of the town for weeks, maybe months. I don’t care about my reputation though, it’s Anya that I’m worried about. I don’t think she’ll find it easy to fit in if the whole town starts gossiping about her on her first day.
My mother returns to the dining room with my father. His face lights up once he spots Anya. “You must be Ms. Houston.”
She nods with a smile. “I am. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackson.”
“It's my pleasure,” my father says as he takes the seat at the head of the table. He turns to me, “How are you adjusting to your new living situation? I imagine it hasn't been easy.”
I let out a sigh and slump my shoulders “It's exhausting, but I didn't really have a choice.”
My father nods in understanding before turning back to Anya.
“I heard Mr. White gave you an extra day off,” he says.
“He did. He's quite generous,” Anya replies, gives Mr. White a nod.
“For years, we have been the closest of friends. He has always been loyal and kind, no matter how successful he became in the bustling city. Instead, he chose to stay in our small town and open a Veterinary clinic to care for the pets and animals in our town." Mr. Jackson turns to Mr. White with a smile and turns to Anya again. "I heard you were once one of his students, and quite intelligent and hard-working at that."
Anya’s cheeks turn red at the compliment. "Mr. White was a highly respected professor at our university; he even encouraged his students to come work for him here. I was thrilled when I found out this was the clinic I would be joining."
Mr. White shrugged his shoulders, indicating that it is not something important enough to mention.
“Let's get back to our discussion,” Spencer interjects. his voice cutting through the chatter around us. I feel a heaviness in my chest and shake my head subtly, hoping he'll pick up on my silent protest, this is not the time or place for this conversation. “I'm surprised to see you here. You never struck me as the type to fit in with these types of people.”
Anya furrows her brow. “What do you mean by that?”
My brother shrugs nonchalantly. “It's a small town, and I know what you could be making if you worked in the city instead.”
She scoffs, as if she can't believe what Spencer was saying. "For someone who was unfaithful the night before our second anniversary, you seem awfully interested in my personal life."
Everyone at the table gives him a disapproving look, except for Alessa. She's too busy eating raspberries from a bowl my mother just placed on the table minutes ago. It’s comforting to see her carefree attitude and genuine happiness.
"I used to love you. It's only natural that I—"
"Enough of that," Anya interrupts with a hand gesture. "I didn't come here to talk to you or about you." She gets up from her seat and walks over to my mother. "Is there anything I can help with?"
My mother shakes her head. "You're a guest, it would be rude of me to ask for your help."
"Trust me, it's not rude." Anya replies with a grateful smile and grabs the bowl of cream from the table and pours some onto the salad plate my mother is holding. "You're offering me dinner, the least I can do is chip in."
My mother nods in understanding.
After they finish making salad, they both return to the kitchen while I sit and watch Anya in awe. She looks beautiful in her simple dress. I can't hear their conversation, but my heart skips a beat when Anya throws her head back and laughs.
Her hazel eyes dance and sparkle under the bright lights, reflecting the pure joy in her heart. Her laughter is like music, filling the room and setting my heart ablaze. I can't resist joining in, caught up in her infectious merriment. But deep down, I know our paths can never align again. It pains me to think that I can never make her laugh like this, because she will never be mine to share those moments with.
The ladies return minutes later. After they’re seated, we start to pass food around the table. I add some veggies and meat to my plate. My appetite has been nonexistent for so long now that I mainly eat just to survive these days.
Anya on the other hand fills her plate with almost everything on the table. I expect her to dig right in, but she tends to Alessa first, adding boneless chicken breasts and mashed potatoes on her plate. My little girl smiles and says thank you before she starts to eat. Anya smiles back like a mom who’s already filled just watching her child eat.
I can’t shake off the feeling that she would make a great mom. Being nurturing comes naturally to her.
“So, Anya,” my mother says as we eat. “How do you like Meadowvale so far?”
Anya gulps down a glass of water. The way her lips press to the glass makes my body twitch. “I haven’t had the time to explore the town, but I’d say it’s a great place. It’s beautiful, and I love the idea of being able to take a stroll at night without being afraid someone will harm me.”
“Oh, believe me when I say Meadowvale is the safest place anyone can be. All you have to do is watch out for the gossips,” my dad adds in a whisper.
Anya chuckles. “Don’t worry, I might even become the town’s gossip girl myself.” She pauses and taps her lips. “Is there something fun you do around here?”
“We have a bonfire night,” Spencer answers, though the question is clearly not directed at him. “We have game nights too and all. The next bonfire night is only a few days from today.”
“Is it okay if I come?” she asks enthusiastically, smiling as if she’s already anticipating the event.
“Sure. You live here now and you’re welcome to do whatever the other residents are doing,” my father answers.
Anya’s eyes squint as she grins. “I will be looking forward to that then.”
I remain silent as dinner goes on. Anya gets along perfectly with my parents and daughter. Spencer tries to catch her attention for the rest of the night, but she doesn’t give it to him.
After dinner, I help clear off the table and do the dishes.
“I’ll walk you home.” I hear Spencer say as I dry my hands with a towel.
I saunter to the living room, where Anya and my brother are. Neither of them seems to notice me walk in.
Anya rolls her eyes as if my brother is a pestering fly. “I don’t need you to follow me like a lost puppy. I know my way home.”
“Still—”
“How about you walk her home, Brandon?” My mother asks beside me, giving Spencer a disapproving frown. I didn’t notice her walk in.
Both their heads whip in our direction. Anya intentionally avoids my gaze.
“I can walk her home,” Spencer says with a boyish grin. “We have history. She’ll feel more comfortable with me.”
My jaw twitches involuntarily at the mere mention of their shared history. Feelings of anger and bitterness rise up in me, wanting to pin all the blame on it. If she weren't his ex, I would have confidently strode over and offered to take her home myself. But it's not just that - it's the fact that the Brandon I used to be, who could effortlessly charm any woman he desired, is long gone. In his place stands a broken and troubled man.
Despite my reservations, I can't help but be curious about how she's been. A part of me wants to apologize for my abrupt departure, knowing that I owe her an explanation at the very least.
But then my mother’s voice brings me back to reality.
"I don't trust you with her, Spencer. I taught you better than to be dishonest." Her words serve as a reminder of my mistakes and shortcomings, and a pang of guilt stabs at my conscience.
Anya nods in agreement. “I already told him that I don’t need him to walk me. I can go on my own.” She pauses and smiles at my mother. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Jackson. It was lovely.”
My mother smiles back. “It was good having you over. I can’t let you go home alone though.” My mother cranes her neck to me. “Be a gentleman and walk our guest home.”
My brother opens his mouth to protest, but I hear myself say, “Fine. I’ll walk her home.”
“Good.” My mother pats my shoulder and disappears down the hallway.
Spencer’s brows draw together in confusion and Anya’s eyes widen.
“I’ll walk you home,” I say again, my voice laced with determination as I approach her. “I’m not just offering or asking.”
Her eyes flicker with uncertainty as she meets my gaze. “What if I say no?”
I lean against the wall beside her, crossing my arms over my chest. “Then I’ll have to carry you on my shoulders.” The thought of carrying her brings a flutter to my heart.
She lets out a heavy sigh, her resolve crumbling. “Fine. Let’s go before I skin your brother alive.” With one last glare towards Spencer, she starts for the door.
I fall in step beside her, the crisp evening air filling my lungs. The night is perfect, with a gentle breeze and a sky full of twinkling stars shining down on us.
I want to draw Anya close and apologize to her for being an asshole and leaving that morning, but it’s pointless. I’m not the same man I was two years ago. It’s no use introducing her to this broken version of me.
We walk in silence until she stops in front of a pine. “Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?”
I stop walking when I feel her gaze on me, but I don’t dare look at her. Whether it’s anger or sadness in her eyes, I can’t bear to see it. “Anya, I…” I swallow hard as I try to think of the right words.
“You slept with me and left without a word, Brandon.” She pauses and inhales. “I thought what we had was different and special, and I thought we at least had a little bit of respect for each other.”
I look at her, hoping she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I respect you, Anya.” I don’t tell her that what we had was precious or that I never forgot her even though I was dying to. It’s of no use now.
“You wouldn’t have left that way if you did,” she says quietly. “It’s in the past though, so you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. Have a good night.”
She strides off, hastening her steps.
“Anya, wait!” I yell after her as she disappears into the distance. The street light above me flickers, casting an eerie glow on the deserted street. Suddenly, I'm taken back to that frigid night on the battlefield, with gunfire exploding in the air and lighting up the sky. My mind is flooded with images of chaos and destruction - fallen comrades, blood-soaked uniforms, and the harsh smell of gunpowder and dust filling my nostrils.
The air feels thick and suffocating, like it's trying to drown me in memories of that horrific night, the same night when I looked down to see Nathan, his once bright eyes dulled by pain and desperation. He begged me to save him, but I felt helpless, unable to move or even breathe as the terror consumes me.
My vision blurs and my body goes numb before I finally succumb to the darkness. The last thing I see before everything fades away is Anya walking away from me, leaving me alone to face my demons.