Chapter 39
OVERLOAD POWER PLAY: HEAVY PUCK MOVEMENT ON ONE SIDE OF THE ZONE
Four Months Later
I’m humming Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out,” as I finish gathering the last of my personal items from my classroom for summer break. I should feel lighter because I’ll have the next twelve weeks off. But I’m not certain there’s any way I could be happier.
It’s because my heart brightens every time I make a new memory with Brennan.
I look around the room one last time before I turn off the lights. With a whispered, “See you soon,” I lock the door and head to the office to drop off my room key.
Stepping outside, the sun almost blinds me. But not so much that I don’t spot Brennan waiting by his truck, leaning against the door with a familiar ease that still makes my heart tremble. He’s here for me.
Present.
Every single day.
I cross the lot toward him, my skirt flowing around my knees. I send an enormous smile in his direction before I sing, “No more teachers, no more books…”
“Hi, my queen.” He’s chuckling when I reach him. He dips his head and our lips meet like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like the years of past judgement and broken trust didn’t happen for us to get here.
I don’t take our love for granted. I never will.
“How does it feel?” he asks. “Freedom?”
I glance back at the school. Then over his shoulder down Main Street. Willow Creek is the place that held me together. “Like all I want to do is cuddle with you,” I say.
His lips brush mine again. “I’m on board with that plan.”
We get in the truck, windows down, his streaming service playing Brendan Blake’s newest hit. Willow Creek is in its early-summer rhythm. Main Street has flowers everywhere. Kids are cluttering the sidewalk outside of The Honeyed Hearth.
I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
At the beginning of the year, I was surviving. Brennan takes my hand and places it on his leg. I squeeze it knowing I’m right where I’m supposed to be. With the man I’m supposed to be with.
My phone buzzes repeatedly in my bag. Without looking, I tell Brennan, "Guaranteed, it’s the girls.”
“What do my favorite feral women have to say?”
I pull out my phone and open our text chat only to burst into laughter.
Emery:
SCHOOL. IS. OUT.
Christin:
Congrats, Amy!
Maya:
What are your plans for the summer with our favorite hockey menace?
I smile wider.
Over the last several months, the girls have accepted Brennan.
This might have to do with them coming for spring break to surprise me.
I didn’t know they were in town until they knocked repeatedly on my door, determined to ensure the man I fell in love with all over again wasn’t the same Brennan McCallister who broke my heart.
I was so busy bubbling over with happiness, I barely had time to warn him.
Brennan showed up to dinner with wine, chocolate, and an invisible shield for the barbs flung at him. Emery flat out asked him his intentions like she was inquiring about the weather. Maya smiled sweetly and said, “We just want to be clear on expectations.”
Christin was quieter. Watching. Measuring. I’m not certain what creative hell she transmitted with her eyes, but I still can’t say her name without him shuddering.
I wasn’t surprised, as they threatened his manhood should he hurt me again. I giggle every time I recall Brennan’s mixture of awe and terror.
Maya spoke first once dinner was finished. “So, I think we’re good now. Mostly. So long as you don’t screw up.”
Brennan nods, “I’d sooner take another blow to the head again.”
Emery leaned back in her chair. “But just in case your understanding is fuzzy.”
Christin met his eyes then. Calm. Deadly. “We don’t make threats. We plan contingencies.”
He blinked. “Okay.”
Maya’s smile looks more like a lion salivating over its kill. “I’ve got friends in multiple countries who owe me favors. Let’s not forget my home base is Italy.”
Christin adds, “I know people who can hack every bit of your life. You’d be amazed what they can find.”
Brennan didn’t back down. “I’m glad she has that.” His eyes meet each of theirs. “From all of you.”
“Though,” Emery chirps, “Amy doesn’t need us to protect her.”
Maya raises her glass. “But it’s nice to have options.”
We all toasted, including Brennan. He announced, “If I hurt her again—and no I don’t mean by forgetting to vacuum the carpet—you all have my permission to come after me.”
The night didn’t end there. Brennan stayed. He got to know my friends. He answered questions he didn’t have to answer without getting defensive. He owned up to what he’d done wrong. He never once asked me to smooth things over.
By the end of the night, each of them told me he was now acceptable. After I shared that, he pledged, “I’ll work toward awesome.”
His devotion means everything to me. Still, I knew the girls saw what I see every day—a man doing the work. So their approval might still come wrapped in snark, but it’s real.
They’re the best friends a woman can have and they encouraged me to go after Brielle now that she’d given me that opening.
I filed charges because of the public slander. Not because I wanted revenge but because I wanted a record against Brielle. A definitive report that says what she did to me wasn’t gossip.
It was a crime.
Then I filed a civil suit against her.
Brielle tried to fight it at first—forgetting about the news media coverage the night of the gala. Fortunately, one of them caught her on tape. Now her attorney keeps calling. They want me to drop the charges. Settle quietly. Avoid “further reputational damage.”
It’s ironic. They’re worried about her reputation after everything she tried to do to mine.
Then there was Brennan’s family.
I’d braced myself for our first call with them to be riddled with awkward silences and uncomfortable memories.
Instead, I’d found warmth. His mother was so overjoyed to see me, she had tears in her eyes.
His father—an older version of Brennan—looked at his son with pride, it was emotional for all of us.
Brennan tilts his tablet. Suddenly his parents fill the screen. His mother gasps like she’s just been handed a gift she didn’t expect. “Oh, Amy,” she says, pressing a hand to her chest. “It’s so good to see you again.”
His mother leans over to hog the camera view, smiling wide. “Brennan’s been so much happier the last few times we’ve talked. I hoped it had something to do with you.”
Their warmth envelops me, even through the digital bytes bridging us across oceans. I reach for a tissue at the same moment Brennan’s mother does. The shared instinct makes us both laugh even as it loosens something in my chest.
“You’re miles away,” Brennan says, glancing over at me as he pulls into his driveway.
I hadn’t even noticed we’d arrived. “Sorry.”
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, killing the engine.
I hesitate for half a second then decide there’s no reason to hold it back. “Our future,” I say.
The words feel right. Solid. Filled with hope.
Brennan stills for a second before smiling. He reaches across the console to open the glove compartment. He retrieves a white envelope he had stashed in there. “Funny. I’ve been giving that some thought, too.”
I squeeze his thigh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We get out of the truck. Instead of heading inside, he pulls me close against his body before handing me the envelope.
I look at him with curiosity before asking, “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
I do. I then almost drop it.
It’s a printed confirmation of two first class airline tickets. Round trip. Destination, Dublin.
My world tilts. “Ireland? You want to take me to Ireland?”
Brennan nods. “I thought…summer. No schedules. Just us and you getting to spend time with my parents.”
My throat tightens. “When?”
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says. “I bought open ended tickets.”
“I can’t believe you planned this!”
“All I did was book a flight. I want us to plan it. Together.” he says with intention.
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my forehead to his chest. “Brennan,” I say softly.
“Yeah?”
“We’re just getting started on the happy we planned on having all those years ago; aren’t we?”
His arms tighten around me. “It’s going to be better.”
I pull back enough to look at him. The man he is now. The man who stayed. Who learned the truth. Changed in ways most people don’t know.
Who shows up every single day.
“I love you,” I say.
His answer is immediate. “I love you, too, my queen.”
For the first time in a long time, love doesn’t feel like a question I need to solve or resolve.
I’m exactly where I’m meant to be at the right point in time.