19. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
We said nothing on the way to Brady’s place. I stared out the window into the dark, not sure why I was shocked by how the night had unfolded. What had I expected, really—given our families’ history?
Before I realized it, we were in his driveway. He cut the engine and turned to me.
“Please say something, Ellie.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Just tell me what you’re thinking.”
I hesitated. I was sure he didn’t want to hear it. But it needed to be said.
“Honestly? I think your momma’s crazy. And maybe we’re crazy, too—for ever believing this could work.”
Brady slid closer, gently taking my face in his hands.
“I’m going to start looking for a job in Atlanta on Monday.”
“Brady . . . ” I sighed. “Moving away won’t fix this. It won’t make our families magically approve.”
His eyes didn’t waver. “Then tell me what to do, Ellie. I’ll do anything for us to be together.”
I didn’t have an answer—because I didn’t know if one existed. I just wanted to disappear into him. To forget all of it. The pain, the lost years, the secrets and lies.
I grabbed his shirt, pulled him close, and kissed him—hard. I poured every feeling into it: sorrow, frustration, love, hope, fear.
Brady met me with equal force, his hands sliding into my hair, threading through the strands like he never wanted to let go. His kiss deepened, urgent and tender all at once.
Minute by minute, our lips moved in a frenzy, tongues dancing wildly, breath mingling until we were breathing only each other—inhale, exhale, nothing else.
The windows fogged.
The lines between us blurred.
I wanted to erase every inch of space between us.
My fingers found the buttons of Brady’s shirt, trembling with urgency.
But just as I began to undo them, he caught my hands.
His lips slowed. Then slipped away.
“Ellie,” he whispered, ragged. “I want more than anything to make love to you, but not like this. Not when you’re upset. I want our first time to be a happy occasion. The happiest.”
I fell back against the seat, breathing hard, loving how he was always careful with me. Never selfish. And he was right, our first time should be the happiest occasion, but I wasn’t ever sure we would get there.
Brady gathered me into his arms. I curled into him, my head resting on his chest. In the silence, I listened to his loudly pounding heart, a million thoughts racing through my mind. But the overriding one was, “How can we get married when it will do nothing but cause unhappiness for our families?”
“Ellie, I’m sorry, but I don’t give a damn who it makes unhappy. I’ve spent the last ten years regretting every day I wasn’t with you. I’m done with regret. We deserve to be happy, too.”
I didn’t know if I’d ever heard Brady speak so forcefully. And he was right. Even so, this wouldn’t be easy. Seeing how controlling his momma was tonight scared me.
“I’m sorry, I tried to take advantage of you,” I teased, trying to add some levity to the situation.
Brady chuckled. “Ellie, you don’t know how badly I want you to.”
“I think I have an idea.” I traced lazy circles on his chest, feeling the tension begin to ease.
But then his tone shifted—melancholy replacing laughter.
“Ellie,” he whispered, his fingers drifting down my arm, “do you think my daddy was talking about your aunt tonight? When he said you reminded him of a girl he used to know?”
I stilled. “Yes,” I whispered.
Something about that unsettled him.
“He was mesmerized when you sang. Like he was . . . haunted.”
I looked up at him. “Brady, that song meant something.”
He blinked at me. “What do you mean? He’s played that for years. It’s his favorite. He once told me it reminded him of better days.”
My breath caught. That hit harder than I expected. How did it go so wrong for my aunt and Mr. Jackson?
“My aunt sang that song during their high school talent show. She said that night was the first time your daddy really saw her—told her she was beautiful.”
Brady said nothing, lips parted.
“She also sang it in the talent portion of the Miss Alabama pageant,” I added quietly. “He was in the audience. Afterward, he proposed again.”
“Again?” Brady questioned.
“He had asked her right after she graduated from high school, but she said no the first time.”
Brady closed his eyes again, sighed, clearly bothered by these revelations.
I brushed a fingertip across his lips, trying to soothe the ache in his expression. “I love you.”
His beautiful eyes fluttered open, the usual spark in them gone. “Do you know, I’ve never heard my parents say they love each other? I figured they were just private about that sort of thing, but I’m beginning to think they may have never loved each other.”
“Brady, I’m sure that’s not true. They’ve been married for well over forty years.”
“Ellie, I saw the way my daddy looked at you tonight. I didn’t understand it at first. It felt strange, off even, but I was just happy he seemed to be trying, so I brushed it off. But now it makes perfect sense.” He sounded upset.
“What makes perfect sense?”
Brady hesitated, his voice raw. “He looked at you the way I look at you. He looked like a man in love. I don’t think he ever stopped loving your aunt. That’s why he and my momma hate you so much. You remind them of her.”
I leaned back against him, my heart thudding beneath the weight of his words, trying to digest them. A sickening thought slipped in before I could stop it. “Do you hate me now, too?”
Brady lifted my chin with the crook of his finger. “How could you think that? It’s just . . . a lot to take in. I’ve known my parents didn’t have the best marriage, but I never connected the pieces until now.”
“What a mess,” I sighed. “Feels like we’re living a soap opera.”
“No,” he said firmly. “This is a romance. And romances end happily ever after. We’re getting ours—I don’t care what it takes. We’re not going to become our parents, bitter and full of regret.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am, Ellie.”
I wanted to believe him. With everything in me, I did.
But after tonight, I knew his momma wouldn’t go quietly.
If she’d spent forty years beside a man who never truly loved her, that was a lifetime of resentment.
And she wouldn’t let Brady go without a fight—especially not for the woman who reminded her husband of the girl he once loved. Or maybe still did.
All I knew was, it was going to take a Christmas miracle to get our happily ever after.
And I, for one, was never again going to underestimate his momma.