CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Brandon #2
I rush back into the hallway and run towards the kitchen like she might suddenly appear, a smirk on her face as she cooks us breakfast wearing nothing but my damn t-shirt.
“Johanna!”
My voice echoes around the house. If there’s anyone else here—they surely heard me.
There’s still no response.
Acceptance finally creeps in. She’s gone.
She left me—and the last thing she let me do was tell her I love her.
“Fuck!” I shout again, my fist hitting the granite countertop in front of me.
I don’t register the pain of striking the hard surface before running my hand through my hair, pacing the room trying to figure out where I went wrong.
How I didn’t see this coming.
I knew she’d leave eventually—to go back to school and all that—but I thought we’d figure something out.
I thought maybe—
“Well, look at you,” a voice says from behind me, causing me to spin around.
Grayson stands at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe like he’s been there long enough to witness the show. He looks like he just rolled out of bed while nursing a hangover, his hair messy and his arms crossed over his chest while he watches me with smug satisfaction.
“What’s got you all worked up this early?” he asks.
It’s more like a taunt.
My jaw tightens instantly.
“Like you don’t already know,” I shoot back. “Where is she?”
His brow furrows, but I know it’s an act.
“Who?”
I stare at him, wondering how long we’re going to dance around the subject.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Grayson.”
Something flickers across his face before he pushes himself off the doorframe and takes a step towards me.
“Oh,” he says flatly. “You mean my sister?”
“No, dumbass—I’m looking for Tony,” I snap, completely done with his bullshit. “Yes, your sister. Do you know where she is or not?”
He shrugs. “I’m guessing she’s halfway to Maine by now.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
“What?”
I’m not sure why I’m asking. I know exactly what he’s saying, but for some reason, I need him to spell it out for me.
“I saw her getting into an Uber about an hour ago,” he says casually. “Did you two finally come to your senses and end your little fling?”
I shake my head slowly.
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking,” Grayson scoffs. “She left, and she clearly didn’t feel like letting you know.”
I pause, letting something sink in that I’d rather not accept—but I’m going to make him tell me whether he wants to or not.
“Did you know?” I demand. “That she was leaving—did you fucking know?”
He lifts a shoulder like this entire conversation is the most insignificant thing in the world.
“While she didn’t necessarily tell me the exact timing of her departure,” he says. “I do know my sister. When things get serious, she bolts. It’s classic Hurricane Johanna—blowing in and out of places without a care in the world.”
He lets the words hang for a beat before adding, “Seeing as you’ve known her all of five minutes, I can’t say I’m shocked you’re surprised by her leaving.”
“That’s not the version of her I knew,” I say, more to myself than to him.
“Exactly my point.”
Grayson drops into a stool at the breakfast bar and spreads his hands on the granite.
“Look, Brandon,” he says. “You didn’t know her—not really. You knew the version of her she lets people see when she’s bored or looking for trouble.” He shrugs. “Trust me on this—you dodged a bullet.”
A short, humorless laugh escapes my lips.
He’s giving me an out. A chance to repair whatever just cracked between us—to agree with him, admit I made a mistake, and pretend none of this actually mattered.
I don’t take it—because that’s not how I feel.
“Grayson,” I mutter. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Grayson gives a sharp exhale through his nose, already completely exhausted with this conversation.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, man,” he sighs.
My stomach twists. I’m not sure I’m going to sleep ever again.
Suddenly, everything she said last night comes rushing back—and now it’s all so fucking obvious.
“She knew,” I say quietly, mostly to myself.
She knew she was leaving.
She knew when she came into my room.
She knew when we were having sex—and she knew when I told her I love her.
You might regret saying that tomorrow.
How much clearer could she have been?
“Unbelievable.”
Grayson finally looks up at me from his spot at the breakfast bar.
“Brandon—”
I shake my head, cutting him off.
“Don’t,” I say sharply.
I drag a hand through my hair and stare down at the pattern of the tile floor beneath my feet. Its predictability grounds me just enough to keep me from completely losing my mind.
A few years down the line, I might look back on this entire situation and laugh. Maybe I’ll realize Grayson was right all along, and I’ll see this whole thing for what it really was.
But right now?
Right now, it feels like whatever’s left of my heart just got ripped clean out of my chest.
Grayson shifts behind me, rising from his stool and moving back towards the hallway. He pauses in the doorway for a moment, watching me as I continue to spiral.
“You’ll get over it,” he says. “They all do.”
I don’t acknowledge it—because if I do, I might actually hit him. Instead, I stare out the kitchen window and focus on the way the palm trees by the pool sway in the wind.
Somewhere in the sky right now, Johanna is sitting on a plane heading back to Maine. She’s going three thousand miles away without a care in the world about what she left behind.
If that’s how she wants it—if she doesn’t want to care about me, or us—fine.
I won’t either.