Chapter 34
Gracyn
Me: Thank God she’s okay!! Thinking of you.
T he last text I sent Brooks three weeks ago. No response. I’m not surprised, but it still hurts. Every morning, the headlines scream with new articles about Judith and her mom, their lives dissected and dragged through the mud by relentless journalists. Those who knew them recall Judith as a sweet and shy child and her mother as a reserved woman who kept to herself. They lived in an affluent part of Tennessee where Judith went to private schools, and her mom worked part-time as a receptionist at a local dentist’s office.
Ray filled in the blanks. The part that no matter how deep they look, nobody will uncover. Judith’s father used to work for Travis. He confirmed it was her twin sister’s death that ended the war between them. Her dad had been out doing a delivery for Travis when it happened. On the way there, someone ran him off the road, riddling his van with bullets before stealing the shipment of drugs. No one knew that he had just picked up his daughter from school sick, and she was sleeping in the back. Ray and Travis figured out it was a rival who had orchestrated the entire thing to escalate the war. But none of that changes anything. In the end, they’re both to blame.
It was too late.
The war they started left behind irreparable scars and anger that festered into revenge. I asked Ray how much they paid the mom for her silence. It was obvious they received money from somewhere. A single mom working part-time wasn’t going to afford them the luxuries that they were living. They each paid her a million and a half. It wasn’t enough. There isn’t enough money in the world that could ever make me forget the loss of my child.
Judith is pleading not guilty. Her attorney claims their trip was a pre-approved vacation and insists this is all a misunderstanding.
Misunderstanding my ass.
Here’s what I’ll always wonder, and I’d ask her if I had a chance. She clearly set out to get revenge on Travis by taking the nanny job with Brooks. But did plans change after all the years with them? Did she realize Brooks was a better man than his father? Did I trigger her plan again when I came into the picture?
Was I her breaking point?
Guess I’ll never know.
I set the phone down and grab the paintbrush, staring at the freshly painted bright green bookcase. One more coat should do it. When I spotted the bookcase on the side of the road, discarded like some piece of trash, I couldn’t leave it. I had to stop and rescue it.
Mom thinks I only picked it up because I see myself in this beat-up piece of furniture. As if fixing it up somehow will fix me, too. She’s wrong. I picked it up because it felt like a crime leaving it there. What kind of monster abandons a perfectly good bookcase?
And it’ll fit perfectly in my classroom. If I can just get this stupid paint to go on smooth. Turns out, restoration is way harder than they make it look on TV.
Just as I dip the brush into the paint, a knock at the door stops me. Ignoring it, I keep working, letting the bristles glide across the raw wood. I haven’t been in the mood to see people since I’ve been home, and this bookcase won’t paint itself. I swipe the brush down the side when another knock comes.
Jesus, people. Take a hint.
My head jerks toward the door when someone sticks a key into the door. I watch as the deadbolt clicks unlocked. There are only two people who have keys, and I know it’s not my mom since she has court today.
Sure enough, the door creaks open, and Charli walks in like she lives here. She glances at the bookcase and then at me with a smirk. “Now I see why you didn’t answer. It’s not that you’ve been ignoring me, right?” she asks sarcastically.
I dip the brush again. “Sure,” I mutter, brushing the paint on, double-checking that my lines are smooth.
“Gray, c’mon,” she whines. “You can’t hole up in here forever. The fumes are going to kill you.” She scrunches her nose and walks over to the window, cracking it open a bit.
“They’re not bad,” I murmur, taking a sniff.
She lifts a brow. “That’s because you’re used to the smell. But they’re awful. I’m surprised your neighbors aren’t complaining.”
When she plops down on my couch, I lift a brow as she makes herself comfortable. “They must not be that bad.”
She laughs, sticking out her tongue. “Did you hear the recent news story on Judith?”
My hand freezes mid-swipe. “Don’t tell me they let her out.”
“Oh, god, no. But this will help keep her behind bars. Remember good ol’ Cooper?”
I sigh, painting the last section on the side. “I already know. An NYPD officer called me yesterday and told me that it was Judith who hired the guy to rough ‘em up. His words .” At this point, nothing that woman does surprises me.
“I can’t believe she told the guy she would pay his family an extra ten thousand if he was caught and told the cops it was you who hired him. She tried to frame you!”
“In the end, she kept me away from Brooks, so I guess she wins.” I shrug, bitterness lacing my voice.
Setting the brush down, I stand and walk over to her, snatching the phone to read the article for myself. At least the media isn’t focusing on our failed marriage at the moment. I hand the phone back and flop down beside her on the couch, exhaling hard.
She puts her head on my shoulder. “I miss you.”
I miss me, too. Focusing on reviving this damn bookcase was only a distraction, something to keep my attention off my real life. I was working on giving it life, but I should’ve been working on mine.
I pick a speck of green paint off my nail. “It looks like shit, doesn’t it?”
Charli glances over at the bookcase, assessing my restoration attempt, and then winces. “Well … you tried.”
We both dissolve into laughter, the kind that feels like exhaling after holding your breath for too long. It feels so good to laugh.
“Let’s grab dinner,” she says, looping her arm through mine. “Nowhere fancy, just somewhere to get you away from these paint fumes before we both start seeing unicorns in the walls.”
“Okay.”
* * *
“Thank you, I’ll call you back in a couple of days with my answer,” I say into the phone before hanging up.
Why didn’t I say no?
Charli’s eyes bore into me from across the table, a smug grin growing larger by the second as I slide my phone into my back pocket, pretending the call didn’t just knock the ground out from under me. I shrug, feigning indifference, even as my insides buzz like I’ve swallowed a hive of bees.
“Of course I applied to many schools,” I blurt out, reaching for my glass of wine, taking a slow sip.
“Of course,” she echoes flatly, raising an unimpressed brow.
I drop my head into my hands. I should’ve let the call go to voicemail. Like the last time they called, and I was afraid to answer. But they might not have called a third time.
“Where is this school that you’d…” She pauses, tilting her head in mock thought before tapping her finger against her lips. “What were your words? ‘ I’d need time to move and find a place to live .’”
I drain the rest of my drink, my mouth suddenly parched. “I’m not taking it,” I mutter.
She laughs at me. “Where, Gray?”
I hate her. She’s going to make me say it out loud. Say out loud that I contemplated chasing a man cross-country.
“I’m not?—”
“Where?”
“New York City!” I yell, throwing my arms out. There. I said it. Yes, there was a fleeting moment of weakness when I thought there might be something between us worth fighting for. Granted, that was before the kidnapping and before I knew we would never work. I never imagined I’d get a job offer.
I should’ve said no.
She grabs a piece of bread, tears off a chunk, and pops it into her mouth. “You should take it.”
My eyes widen. She’s insane. “No, I shouldn’t. The only reason I was going was because of Brooks. And that’s over.”
A flash of a liar, liar, pants on fire expression crosses her features. She’s not wrong. It’s been almost a month, and I still think about him every day. Every night. The dreaded what-ifs hit me like a game of darts, one after another. Hitting the intended bullseye, my heart.
It’s still broken and hasn’t healed completely.
He still doesn’t want me.
I need to say no.
“We should move,” she says out of nowhere.
I jerk my head up. “What are you talking about, we? Since when do you want to move to New York?”
She leans forward on her elbows. “There are a lot of opportunities with the networks there. A few headhunters contacted me after seeing my social media post about the football player that married the president’s daughter. They loved the piece. And two of them are looking to fill jobs in New York City.”
“That’s awesome!” I say, excited for her. She worked hard to grow her following and make a name for herself. Forget about me and my emotional conundrum. This is big news. There aren’t many job openings here in Vegas right now, so she was trying to wait it out. “What are you going to do?”
“That depends on you.”
“Noooo,” I say, pointing my finger right in her face. “This is your future. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She picks up her drink and takes a sip, staring at me over the rim of her glass. When she puts it down, she shrugs. “Because I hadn’t decided yet. And you’ve been shutting me out for weeks.”
Ouch. Instant guilt slams into me. I’ve been a horrible best friend.
“But I understand,” she adds, reaching over the table to grab my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Now that you got an offer, though, it’s like it’s meant to be. We should move!”
“I don’t know.” I grimace. “I’ve already accepted the job here.”
“So un-accept it. You haven’t even started yet.”
I stare at her, blinking. School starts in three weeks.
She leans back, crossing arms and legs. I don’t like the knowing smile she’s sporting. “Why not decline it, then? Why do you need a couple of days ?”
Before I can answer, the server shows up with our salads, saving me from having to admit the truth. Or lie. Because I don’t want to move. Right ?
New York sounds like a fun adventure, especially if Charli is there with me, but then again so does Florida.
“Why don’t we move to Miami?” I say. “Beach and sun year-round. Sounds perfect.”
She laughs out loud, shaking her head. “Did you get an offer in Miami?”
“No,” I admit, fiddling with the edge of my napkin. “But I could apply.”
Her gaze pins mine with amusement. “Or,” she says pointedly, “you could accept the offer you already have. New York would be so much fun. And I’d be there with you. You wouldn’t be alone.”
If Brooks ever found out I moved there, he’d lose his shit. I chuckle to myself. Who cares? He doesn’t own New York City, despite what he might think.
For the first time in weeks, a flicker of spite sparks in my chest. Warm and alive, cutting through the haze of heartbreak. It feels like my old self.
“If I go, it’s not because of Brooks.”
“Uh-huh.” The corner of her mouth twitches.
“I mean it,” I reply, giving her my teacher stare that I’ve practiced many times in front of a mirror. “I have to make this about me.”
She nods, her expression shifting to mock seriousness. “Of course. Totally about you.”
“I’m serious! If we go…” I pause, emphasizing the uncertainty. “And I mean if, because I’m still not sure, you better not tell Brooks I’m there.”
There’s so much to figure out. Ugh. I never in a million years thought they’d offer me a job. They’re so desperate for teachers that they offered me a probationary certification for a year. There’s moving to a new state, finding a place, and all within a month. The thought alone twists my stomach into knots.
She raises her right hand, repeating what I always do. “I swear I won’t.”
I pick up my fork and stab at my salad. My mind drifts to the money my mom gave me, sitting untouched in my bank account. It’d be a nice safety net to have while I build my life in one of the most expensive cities in the world. Plus, schools don’t start in New York for another six weeks, so I’d have a little breathing room to settle in. But could I move without thinking of him? Can I separate the city from the man?
Or is the tiny voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me to do it, not just chasing a fresh start, but rather holding out hope?
“Ticktock,” Charli says, tapping her watch as she tries to contain her excitement. “We have a lot to do if we’re headed east in a couple of weeks.”
I draw in a breath and hold it, afraid to exhale. Because my next breath will flip my entire world upside down. It will change everything.
And I’ll be living in the same city as my husband.