Epilogue
LEXI
It had been weeks since I dropped that bomb at the cabin, but as it turned out it wasn’t much of a bomb.
Dylan and Daphne already knew, and Dane and Nathan weren’t all that surprised.
I believe Brandon said, ‘They were like, yeah, no shit’ or something like that.
I guess we hadn’t been as sneaky as we thought.
Whatever, it was still fun to secretly date while it lasted.
The bell above the door to the shop announced my arrival, and Paige looked up to greet me. “Hey, Lexi. Go ahead back.”
“Thanks, girl. Love that top.” Over the past few weeks, I’d gotten to know Paige pretty well and had a feeling she and I were going to be good friends. Look at me making friends and shit!
“Thanks! I just got it,” she smiled up at me as I passed her.
“Hey, Brando,” I cooed.
Brandon immediately stood and lifted me into a hug. “There’s my girl! I missed you,” he said, burying his face in my neck, making me chuckle. I couldn’t believe how far we’d come. “How was work?” he asked as he set me back down.
“Not too bad, I guess. I mean, it was work, so…” I snickered. “How about you?”
“Pretty good. I’m finishing my girlfriend’s tattoo today, so that’s pretty cool.
” Before I could respond with some smartass comment, he leaned down and kissed me.
I smiled against his lips. Dating Brandon was not at all what I’d expected.
Initially, I thought he’d be super clingy and annoyingly romantic, but it was almost as if he knew exactly what I needed in a partner.
Or maybe we were actually meant to be. Ha!
I was still me. I wasn’t about to start believing in fate all of a sudden.
Truthfully, we balanced each other out so well.
He pushed me to talk about my feelings, and I coaxed him into being more adventurous.
He was funny and kind, made me feel safe and loved, but still fucked me within an inch of my life just about every day.
You could say things were going pretty well.
A throat cleared behind me. “Hey, I’m gonna get out of here,” Paige said, interrupting our kiss. “I’ll lock up. You kids have fun.”
“Thanks, Paige. See ya tomorrow,” Brandon called after her.
“Bye!” I gave a small wave and then moved to sit on Brandon’s table. Swinging my legs, I teased, “All alone. Whatever will we do?”
“Finish your tattoo,” Brandon said seriously.
“Boo, you’re no fun,” I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest.
“You know that’s not true. Now, don’t be a brat, and you’ll get your reward when we get home.
” Home. He said that often. While we didn’t share a home, whenever he’d slip and say that, my heart skipped a beat.
Okay, I knew I wasn’t actually having palpitations.
I’m a nurse, duh, but I would get a funny feeling in my chest. It was a feeling that until recently had been unfamiliar to me.
He moved to put the privacy screen in place. Even though it was only the two of us in the shop for the rest of the evening, he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be exposed if his brother or dad stopped by unexpectedly.
As soon as it was in place, I stood and peeled off my pants slowly, making eye contact with him the entire time.
I knew we were just going to finish my tattoo, but it was too fun messing with him.
“Behave, Sweetheart,” he said with an arched eyebrow and handed me a sheet to cover myself.
The heat in his eyes gave him away. I knew the effect I had on him because it was the same effect he had on me—and not just sexually.
Some of our most fun times had actually been while we’d been fully clothed. Wild, I know.
I wrapped the sheet around myself and hopped back up onto the table. “Okay, Buzz Killington. Let’s get this show on the road, then.”
Brandon chuckled as he readied his supplies.
When I’d left town, my tattoo was only half done.
I hadn’t been in a hurry to finish it since I got back, but it finally felt like it was time.
Brandon and I were in a good place, the cat was out of the bag about our relationship, and I was ready to finally let go of my past. Finishing my tattoo felt like the logical next step.
“So, did you mail that letter this morning?” Brandon asked as he started cleaning my leg. Mother fucker liked to ask me uncomfortable questions while I couldn’t go anywhere, like now or while tied to his bed.
“I did.”
“And how are you feeling about it?”
“Fine.”
“Lexi—” His tone let me know I wouldn’t get out of talking about this.
“I’m okay, really. I think I was more emotional after I finished writing it. Dropping it in the mail wasn’t too bad.” I sighed. “I’m glad it’s done.”
“I’m proud of you, Sweetheart,” he said with nothing but admiration in his voice.
“I’m proud of myself, too, actually,” I said honestly, because I was proud of myself.
In therapy, I came to terms with the fact that I actually had been pushing people away because of my own abandonment issues, rather than my not wanting to end up like my mom.
Apparently, those were two different things, and I’d been projecting my own issues onto my mom.
Then, after months of therapy and working on myself, I finally felt the weight of my father’s abandonment lifting.
My therapist suggested I write him a letter to gain some sort of closure.
While I fought the idea tooth and nail at first, as time went on and I got stronger, I felt like it was the best thing I could do for myself.
It wasn’t for him because, fuck that guy.
But I deserved closure, and this was the only way I could get it without talking to him face to face, which would not be on any of my Bingo cards, ever.
Turned out he was in prison yet again, but that time in Arizona.
He caught another drug charge and would be incarcerated for the foreseeable future.
The thought of going to see him in prison never even crossed my mind.
He didn’t deserve my time or energy. I went through every emotion as I wrote the letter—sadness, anger, guilt, relief.
But I also felt an immense sense of pride after I’d finished it.
I didn’t put a return address, and he had no way of responding to me, but getting all the things I had to say to him off my chest felt like a huge relief.
Even if he never got it or read it, I had the closure I needed to move forward with my life and with Brandon.
Brandon, who was emotionally available and wanted to give me everything I’d never had from a man in my life before—stability, hope, love.
“You doing okay, Lexi?” Brandon asked, pulling me back into the present, the hum of his machine still buzzing as he worked.
“I’m good. Just thinking.”
“Want to share with the class?” he chuckled.
“I love you.”