9. Brandon
CHAPTER 9
Imissed her.
That’s the only sentence that’s been burning in my mind for the past few days. Despite thinking of her almost every morning and night for two years, I didn’t realize just how bad I missed her until now.
I catch myself smiling at the fact that she really named that dog after me. I’d been annoyed with it when I came home from my deployment, but it doesn’t sound so bad anymore.
It’s hard to believe Anya has a daughter now, and I don’t know if that changes anything considering I also have a daughter. Maybe we can go on a playdate with our kids and get to know each other. I don’t expect us to pick up right where we stopped, not when she was so angry about me leaving.
I thought I’d be able to stay away from her because of my trauma and her past relationship with my brother, but I honestly don’t think I can, not when she’s all I can think of all day.
Perhaps we can't have a close relationship, but we can at least be friends. This way, she won't have to bear my burden and Spencer won't get upset with us. I'm eager to spend more time getting to know her, but the situation is quite complex.
And speaking of her daughter, I can’t tell why she keeps crossing my mind. She was a baby. It’s crazy to think of, those Jackson dark brown eyes and hair, the full lips, she has it all.
And come to think of it, if she’s a year and two months old, then it could be that—
“Hey, Brandon.”
As Joe makes his way towards the barn, I turn my head to get a better look at him. In this small town where everyone is nosy and gossips about each other, he's been my closest friend. With his towering height, fiery red hair, and impressive beard, he never fails to give great advice.
I haven’t told him about Anya. I haven’t said much of anything to anyone. Even my parents don’t know about my nightmares and the panic attacks that I experience. They don’t need to know. I don’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.
"Hey, Joe," I respond, mustering a grin as I shift my focus to him. His eyes narrow slightly, silently questioning me.
"You seem preoccupied, buddy. Is everything okay?" he asks with concern in his tone. I should have expected him to pick up on my mood. Joe has always been the one to notice when something is bothering me, no matter how much I try to hide it.
"Yeah, just lost in thought." I shrug nonchalantly, hoping to brush off his worry. But Joe isn't easily deterred.
"Are you sure about that?" he probes further, studying my expression for any clue to the truth. I hesitate, torn between opening up to him and bottling up my pain.
The therapist I spoke to before I returned to Meadowvale said it would be better to share my horrible experience with someone.
She is a kind woman with gentle eyes and a soothing voice, had tried to convince me that sharing my experience would be cathartic. But I was hesitant. Talking about it felt like ripping open a wound, exposing the raw pain that I had been trying to bury deep inside.
I remember as the therapist asked me to describe what had happened, the sun shone through the window, casting bright rays of light across the room. But I couldn't feel its warmth. All I could feel was the suffocating weight of my memories, like a drowning man struggling to break free.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I knew I needed to do this, for my own sanity. As I began to speak, something shifted inside me. It was as if the words were coming from a place that I had been keeping locked away, and by saying them, I was finally starting to release the pain and fear that had been consuming me. And for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope.
Maybe I can confide in Joe about something in the future, but not everything.
“I've just been thinking about... stuff,” I mumble, unable to meet his gaze. I know it's not much of an explanation, but it's the best I can offer right now.
Joe studies me for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Alright, man. Just remember, I'm here if you ever want to talk about it,” he says, his tone gentle yet firm.
I nod in response, grateful that he isn’t pushing me for answers. I’d guess he already knows my internal struggle. I’ve confided in him a few times before about my missions and how traumatizing they can be. He probably understands without me having to say a word.
“So, about tonight,” he continues, changing the subject with practiced ease. “I was thinking we could gather some wood for the bonfire. What do you say?”
The mention of the bonfire brings a flicker of excitement to my otherwise troubled mind. It's been a while since we've had one, and the idea of spending the evening surrounded by friends and laughter is exactly what I need right now.
“Yeah, sounds good,” I reply, a hint of enthusiasm creeping into my voice. Maybe tonight will be the distraction I've been searching for, a chance to escape the turmoil of my thoughts, if only for a little while.
Together, Joe and I set off to gather wood for the bonfire, the crackling of twigs and the scent of pine filling the air.
"Have you seen the girl that’s just moved into town?” Joe asks, scanning the woods. “The one with the baby?”
I shift my weight to one leg and plant my hands on my hips. “Anya?”
He snaps his fingers. “Yes, her.”
My brows furrow. Joe does not have any interest in gossip. If he heard something, then it means the news is already spreading around town. Anya being the talk of the town doesn’t sit right with me. “What about her?”
“Heard she’s Spencer’s ex. How true is that?”
I hold my head. It feels like it might explode if I don’t. “That was two years ago. How did you hear about that?”
Joe wasn’t at the dinner and no one else on that table would spread the news like that, unless…
“Spencer’s been going around telling everyone that cares to listen,” Joe says.
I lace my fingers through my hair. “That fucking idiot.”
“Do you think there’s a chance of them getting back together?”
Anger flares in my chest. “No way.” I don’t tell him about Spencer cheating on Anya; that is not my story to tell, but I scowl, my eyebrows knit together to show him how serious I am. “Spencer behaves like a teenager and Anya is a mother. She needs someone responsible.”
Joe rears back, holding his hands up defensively. “Chill, man. You’re getting worked up over nothing.” He scratches his beard. “I’m not saying they need to get back together. I also think your brother has a lot of growing up to do, and Anya seems like a nice woman. I took Billy to the vet clinic two days ago and she did a wonderful job with him.”
By Billy, he means his five-year-old male goat.
“Yeah, sorry,” I mutter, trying to reign in my emotions. The mere thought of Anya being hurt again ignites a fierce protectiveness within me. “It's just. I know Anya deserves better than that,” I continue, my voice more controlled this time.
He gives me a suspicious glare. “You sound like you knew her before now.”
“Well…” I bite my lips, weighing whether to tell him or not. I decide to tell him because I know Joe would rather die than share my secret with anyone. “We had a thing before I left for the last mission.”
Joe doesn’t hide his surprise as his jaw drops open.
“It was fleeting, and I had no idea she was my brother’s ex.”
He finally closes his mouth, and thinks for a while before he asks, “Does Spencer know about this?”
“Hell no. He’ll be mad if he does.” I swallow hard. “And it’s of no use telling him or anyone else. Anya and I can never have a relationship like that again, even if my brother wasn’t in the picture.”
Joe shifts his weight on one leg, and he looks at me intently. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t deserve her love. I’m a coward, and I don’t even deserve to be happy.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously this time. “What on earth happened on that mission? You’ve been off since you got back.”
I push away the memories, refusing to bring them to the forefront of my mind. The bloodshed, the explosions, the sound of gunfire - I try not to remember any of it. But it's hard not to think about Nathan, and how he was dying in front of me while I stood there, helpless. The last I heard, he had been discharged from the hospital but now relies on a wheelchair. He's undergoing therapy to walk again, but I can't bring myself to visit him. I know he probably resents me for not being able to save him.
"My friend and brother almost died because of me," I say bitterly.
"It wasn't your fault," Joe intervenes with a hushed voice. "You were in shock."
"I bet he thinks differently," I scoff, trying to hold back tears. "Let's just not talk about it right now."
Joe nods in understanding. "Okay, but I'm here for you whenever you need."
I doubt I will ever want to revisit those memories, but I keep that to myself.
That mission and all its events are a nightmare that I never want to experience again. Even mentioning it brings me back to the darkness of those memories.
As we collect wood and load it onto my truck, we drive to the community center where some of the residents have already gathered to set up for the event. They're busy decorating and arranging chairs.
“Sweetheart Brandon!”
I twist my head to the source of the voice and find Mariana walking in my direction. She’s in her seventies and suffers from dementia; sometimes she thinks I’m her late husband, other times she thinks I’m just a handsome guy she would like her daughter to meet. She doesn’t have a daughter, but she thinks she does.
Mariana's smile is so radiant that I can tell she believes I am her husband.
In response, I return a warm smile to her.
She walks towards me with joyful recognition shining in her eyes, though it only exists in her own mind. "Darling, you've finally come," she says, placing a gentle hand on my cheek as if I were the husband she had lost long ago.
I'm taken aback, but I decide to play along, knowing how comforting it must be for Mariana to believe I'm her husband. “I'm here, Mariana,” I reply softly, taking her hand in mine. “How are you feeling today?”
Her smile widens, her face glowing with joy. “Oh, I'm just wonderful now that you're here,” she says, her voice filled with affection. “I’ve missed you.”
My chest squeezes with sadness. I haven’t seen Mariana since I returned to Meadowvale. I’d missed everything in this small town for two whole years. I’m just glad to be back, away from the horrors I faced. “I missed you too, darling.”
Mariana's gaze suddenly shifts, and she focuses on someone behind me. "And who might this beautiful young lady be?" Her tone is inquisitive yet friendly.
I turn to see Anya walking towards us with a mischievous gleam in her eye.
I can't help but wonder why she's here so early. She's only been in this small town for a week, yet she already seems to know other women. Knowing her bubbly nature, I shouldn't be surprised at all.
Anya steps forward, her demeanor bright and warm as she stands next to Mariana, looping her arm through hers. “I have been looking for you. I am Anya, remember?”
Mariana's face lights up even more at the sight of Anya. “Oh, my dear Anya, you’ve been looking for me?” She cups her face, shocked for some reason. “You’re beautiful. You must be my daughter.”
Anya laughs softly, playing along with Mariana's perception of her. “Thank you, Mariana, you’re beautiful too. I think I got the good genes from you,” she says warmly.
I observe Mariana and Anya interacting with a blend of amusement and awe. Anya is a natural at caring for others, and her energy and positivity are contagious. I have to stop myself from smiling as I watch them.
“Sorry, I was supposed to take care of her but she slipped away somehow,” Anya says, grinning at me.
It hurts to see how beautiful she is. It’s impossible for me to take my eyes off her when my heart is skipping a beat each second I spend around her.
“It’s no problem,” I reply. “Mariana is fun to be around.”
One of the women passes with a box of candy that catches Mariana’s attention. She unloops her arm from Anya’s and hurries after the candy.
And that leaves me alone with Anya while I’m trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.
“So, what are you doing here?” Anya asks.
“Brought some wood for the bonfire night. How about you?”
She lets out a heavy sigh. "I finished my shift at the clinic and your mother wanted to watch Kira, so I figured I could lend a hand with the party preparations."
"My mom is babysitting Kira?" My surprise must be evident in my tone, but it's hard to keep my thoughts from spinning with the idea that Kira might be my child. And now, with my mom taking care of her, those swirling thoughts only intensify.
Anya squints at me. “Is there a problem with your mother babysitting my daughter?”
I quickly shake my head. “No, not at all. How are you coping with moving into a new town? I suppose it’s not easy blending in.”
She lets out a deep chuckle. "Trying to fit in? Not necessary. Everyone here is so kind and welcoming. The other women always bring me food without me having to ask, and they're always offering to watch Kira for me. It's amazing."
My heart feels warm at her words. "That's great."
"Anya?" someone calls from inside the community center.
"I'll be right there!" Anya yells back, but she keeps her eyes on me. "I'm sorry, I have to go now. Will I see you later?"
"Definitely."
"Bye." She waves at me before turning and hurrying towards the building.
I stand there, watching her until she disappears from my view. It's then that I realize I can't stop grinning like an idiot.