Chapter 35
Brandon
I’m awakened by someone kicking my toe. I open my eyes to see Jamie leering down at me. As awareness dawns on me, I realize I’m still cuddled up with Evie on Maggie’s couch. She’s wrapped around me like a snake attempting to suffocate its next meal.
If I wasn’t sweating before, I am now.
Jamie raises his eyebrows expectantly, then nods toward the kitchen and disappears.
I swallow nervously, unsure what he’s going to make of this situation.
Lifting my head, I grimace at the crick in my neck. Slowly, I shift forward and carefully disentangle my limbs from Evie’s. She mumbles a protest, reaching for me as I slip from the couch. Hovering over her for a moment, I allow her to slip back to sleep before padding quietly out of the room.
Jamie’s making coffee when I enter the kitchen.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem upset. He hands me a mug before dropping into the breakfast nook and gesturing for me to join him.
The stoic look on his face reminds me of all the fathers I’ve met in my life—and all the times I’ve been warned not to hurt someone’s little girl.
Cringing internally, I wonder if Jamie’s about to give me the same spiel.
I sit down and wait for him to break the silence.
“I take it Evie didn’t want to be alone last night,” he says quietly, taking a sip of his coffee.
“No.” I search my best friend’s face for any hint of disapproval, but he’s acting totally blasé—as if he didn’t just catch me cuddling Evie in my sleep.
“Well, I’d be careful if I were you,” he says after a moment, eyeing me.
My heart rate picks up. “Careful with what?”
“With Evie,” he says, like it’s obvious. “You two seem to have gotten pretty cozy ever since you made her your assistant.” I freeze. Little does he know. “And you know she’s crazy about you. Always has been.”
Now’s your chance, Brandon. Say something. Tell him you’re crazy about her, too.
My mouth opens, then closes.
“Poor girl.” He shakes his head. “Can’t have been easy to have found Grandma like that. She’s been through a lot in the last few years, hasn’t she?”
My brows fold. No one could argue that Evie has been through a lot in her short life.
But the last few years, specifically? What is he referring to, exactly?
Jamie doesn’t know about what happened between us.
Apprehension gnaws at my gut. I’m getting the sudden sense that Evie’s been hiding something from me—especially as her words from last night echo in my mind.
You weren’t there when I needed you! I didn’t know what she meant by that, and I didn’t get the chance to ask her.
I know she’s an emotional person, but her reaction to my confession yesterday . . . it was all over the place. One minute, she wanted to slap me. The next, she was trying to sleep with me. Then, after our heart-to-heart, she told me she loved me.
I’ve got whiplash from the experience.
And because she iced me out for so long, what she’s truly been up to for the last few years—aside from taking care of Maggie and working herself to a pulp—has been a total mystery to me.
Now I need Jamie to fill in the blanks.
“What do you mean?”
Jamie’s head tilts. He gives me a look like I should know. “Well, you know . . .”
I wait, heart pounding, sensing something is terribly amiss.
Frowning, he leans forward. I have to incline my ear to hear him. “I thought she would have told you.”
“I’m sure she has.” Is he referring to her back pain?
Jamie leans back against the booth seat, gazing at me like he’s disappointed in me for not remembering.
I feel like the world’s most insensitive idiot right now.
“Really, bro?” He takes a torturously slow sip of his drink.
Setting the mug down, he sighs and roughs a hand over his beard. “I’m talking about the miscarriage.”
Everything inside of me pauses. Lungs, heart, blood flow. It all comes to a screeching halt.
“The . . . miscarriage?”
Jamie’s forehead wrinkles. “You seriously didn’t know?”
I’ve lost my voice. I can’t do anything but shake my head.
He purses his lips. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I guess.
But I thought she would have told you. You’re one of the very few people she opens up to about things.
” He shrugs once. “If it makes you feel any better, she probably wouldn’t have told me, either.
Not if you’d been the one who picked up the phone that night. ”
“What?”
His brows crease. “She said she called you. To take her to the hospital.” My hands go cold. Numb. He gives me a perplexed look. “She really didn’t tell you?” He whistles under his breath when I shake my head. “Wow. She must have really taken it hard. She tells you everything.”
“Where was I?” I gasp, reeling. “That night?”
He shrugs. “No idea. Evie just said you weren’t picking up.”
A mixture of coffee and bile coats the back of my throat.
Evie had a miscarriage.
She miscarried our child.
My child.
She called me for help, and I ignored her.
Jamie carries on as if he hasn’t just detonated a bomb in my heart.
“I tried to get her to tell me who the father was, but that was like trying to get blood from a stone.” He shakes his head once, his eyes darkening with contempt as his hand tightens around his mug.
“But man, I’d give anything to know that information. ”
“I—”
“My guess?” he goes on. “Adam.”
My head shakes. “Jamie . . .”
He sits up, and I glance toward the doorway, where a sleepy Evie is stretching one arm above her head. “Morning,” she says, yawning as she shuffles toward the coffee pot, rubbing her lower back absentmindedly.
“Morning, sis. I heard Brandon’s chest makes an awesome pillow.”
She snorts, offering me a timid smile. I try to return it, but I can’t. Neither she nor Jamie has any idea that my world has just been turned upside down.
“How’s Grandma doing?” she asks Jamie once she joins us at the table.
“Better than expected, but she’s doped up on pain meds right now. Dad said she was singing worship music this morning like nothing even happened.”
Evie laughs once. “You’re kidding.”
“The pain will catch up eventually, but for now, she’s in good spirits. She was asking to see you. As soon as you’re ready, we can head over there.”
Evie nods, then gives me a bashful look. “Will you come?”
“I—” My heart jumps into my throat, wanting nothing more than to be there for her right now, knowing how deep the wounds I’ve inflicted go. I glance down at my watch, remembering I need to pick up Teddy this morning. “I’m sorry. I would, but I’ve got Teddy today.”
She nods again. “Give him a big hug and kiss from me.”
My heart breaks in new places. No wonder she’s always been so attached to Teddy. Everything makes sense now. Who would trust me? Not even I would, knowing what I do now. I abandoned Evie, and when she reached out for help in her most vulnerable moment of need, I remained silent.
I’m no better than her mother.
I recall with anger and bitterness and regret the dozens of times I silenced her calls and ignored her texts. To think I thought I was doing us a favor.
Was her last call the call? Now I’ll never know.
Whether Evie forgives me or not is moot. I will never forgive myself.
Ever.