Chapter 9 #2
I lift a shoulder. “Her boss is away, and it’s the holiday season. She’s busy and doesn’t like reading the depressing shit in the news.” I lean forward, eyeing him seriously. “Gracie doesn’t need that on her shoulders.”
Monroe purses his lips, his disappointment heavy in the air.
“That isn’t how relationships work, Braxton.
You’re supposed to be a team, especially when you’re working in a profession like this one.
You can’t just bottle this up and hope it will all go away.
” My eyes slide away from his as he adds, “It all comes out, one way or another. Don’t you think Gracie would want the choice of supporting you through this? ”
I sink my teeth into the fleshy part of my cheeks, sucking back every word that wants to spew from my mouth.
The fact that Monroe is giving me relationship advice is laughable.
His wife died years ago, but it’s no secret that his marriage wasn’t exactly content.
And it’s telling that he’s refused to even contemplate the idea of another relationship, despite my meddling mother frequently trying to set him up.
Unaware of my uncharitable thoughts, Monroe continues, “I can get you some free counseling sessions if you want to take that route. The guy we use is over in Ashland, so you don’t have to worry about anyone in town seeing you.
” My mouth twists into a scowl, but Monroe isn’t bothered by it.
“Or you could talk to someone a bit closer. You know your father is more than a little experienced with this kind of thing.”
A disbelieving laugh bursts out of me. “Are you ordering me to talk to my dad, Chief?”
He leans back, resting his hands on his stomach as he throws an arch look my way.
“If it comes down to it.” He stares at me, daring me to argue, but when I hold my silence, he shakes his head.
“Ben was released from hospital yesterday. He should be back on his shift next week. I know you’re working for him Friday, but that’s it for you this week. ”
Inwardly rolling my eyes, I slap my hand against my knee, then stand. “Good talk.”
He glowers at me, but I’m already saluting him and stalking from the office, taking my chance to escape while it’s here. I head straight for the common room, finding Marco and Asher sitting at either end of the sagging couch.
I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge before taking the armchair next to the couch, glaring at Marco’s booted feet that are planted on the coffee table.
“You know how Theo feels about that,” I mutter, twisting the cap off the bottle and tipping it up to my mouth.
“Don’t give a shit,” he says jovially, eyes twinkling. “I don’t eat off the table anyway. I’m not a savage. I use a plate.” The amusement fades away into curiosity. “What did the chief want?”
I press my lips into a firm line. “Nothing,” I grunt. “Just a check-in.”
Asher’s staring down at the phone in his hand, the device looking tiny in his massive paw, but he’s still listening—proven when he tells Marco, “Chief wanted to talk to him about the accident a week before Thanksgiving.”
“The one where—”
“We aren’t talking about it,” I snap. Jesus Christ. “I don’t understand why everyone can’t take me at my word. If I say I’m fine, I’m fine.” I slide my eyes to Asher, asking slyly, “Never took you for a teenage girl. How’s Rochelle?”
Regret coils in my stomach when he looks up, his blue eyes icy. “My wife is fine,” he says curtly. “How’s Gracie? You guys still looking at buying a house?”
“Yep,” I say easily. “We went and looked at the place she wants, and we’re gonna put an offer in.”
Marco’s brows rise. “Trying to buy a house just before Christmas seems extra stressful.”
“The timing isn’t ideal,” I admit, feeling the truth of those words.
Gracie is worried, especially with her boss away, but I told her I would take care of all the paperwork.
I look down, picking at the sticky label on the plastic bottle.
“It’s basically Gracie’s dream house. If we wait, we might lose our chance at it. ”
Asher has gone back to his phone, but Marco playfully grins at me. “Feels like it’s been weeks since we’ve seen Gracie.”
“She’s busy, pulling extra hours at the flower shop.” I eye him suspiciously, finishing on a mutter, “but maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
“Hey!” he protests with a laugh. “There’s no harm in looking, eh? And you guys haven’t tied the knot yet.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t mean she’s available.”
Marco rolls his eyes. “Semantics.” He reaches over to nudge Asher’s arm with his elbow. “And Rochelle? When’s she coming by to see us?” The tone is still light, but not quite as genuine.
Asher doesn’t bother looking up, his thumbs digging into the phone so hard that I’m shocked the glass doesn’t crack. “She’s gone away for Christmas,” he admits after a moment. “To her sister’s.”
“Shit,” Marco blows out a breath. “That sucks. Aren’t you off on Christmas?”
“Not anymore,” he mutters. “I swapped with Harrison. Figured a guy with a young kid deserves to spend Christmas at home.” He shakes his head, his expression grim. “Beats me spending the day at home alone.”
“Well, damn,” Marco complains. “This got depressing. Let’s go see if we can’t convince Theo to cook us something.”
The rest of our shift passes relatively quietly—a couple of minor callouts that don’t linger.
I steer clear of both the chief and Theo.
I don’t know what she might have told him, or even what she might’ve seen in me at the crash site, but there’s nothing wrong with the way I’m processing what happened a couple of weeks ago.
I know the chief thinks I’m burying it, but there’s nothing I could have done to change what went down.
The dice were thrown before the rig ever pulled up that day.
And I’ll keep telling myself that until I believe it.
I walk out to my truck the next morning, my bag slung over my shoulder, and my head pounding. Someone calls out my name, and my shoulders creep up to my ears, just wanting to get home and decompress. I keep walking, pretending I didn’t hear, but I only get two steps.
“Braxton! Wait up!”
I frown in bemusement at the unexpected voice, turning to find Paisley approaching, her smile bright and strawberry-blonde ponytail swinging behind her.
“Hey,” I greet her, readjusting my hold on my bag. “What’re you doing here? It’s pretty early for social visits.”
She shrugs. “I’m used to starting my days early, so I figured I’d get a run in.” Belatedly, I realize she’s dressed in a sports tank and leggings, her skin shiny with perspiration.
“I was just heading home,” I explain unnecessarily, nodding at the building behind her. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I’m looking forward to crawling into bed for a couple of hours.”
Paisley’s eyes crease with sympathy. “I can’t imagine the toll these shifts take on you.”
“I’m used to it.”
A light laugh leaves her. “Being used to it didn’t make my father any less of a grump whenever he got home.”
I palm the back of my neck. “Yeah,” I murmur. “You’re not wrong.”
Paisley steps forward, her voice softening as she says, “I wanted to tell you that I understand about the other night.”
My brow knits together. “Understand what?” I ask in bemusement.
“About you not giving me a ride home.” She looks away, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank.
“I got the sense that Gracie really doesn’t like me, so I know that played a part in what happened.
” There’s an undercurrent of hurt in her voice that has guilt surging into my throat, hot and fast. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, and I just…
I think I expected that nothing would have changed, you know? ”
“It’s been four years,” I say shortly, sucking back the desire to remind her that she didn’t speak to me once during that time. Things changed between us, and that’s not on me.
“I know…” Paisley reaches up to push a flyaway strand behind her ear. “I just thought…I was really excited to come home to my friend.”
I look away, my chest tight as I remember everything Gracie laid out for me, feeling boxed into a too-tight space. Several seconds pass before I look back at Paisley, and her expression has fallen, brown eyes wounded as she watches me.
“Guess that was my mistake,” she murmurs, eyes dropping…but not before I see the sheen to them.
“Who were you with that night?” I ask past the uncomfortable tightness in my throat. “You said your friends—”
“Patty and Robert,” Paisley cuts me off with false brightness. “They have two kids already, but they got a babysitter so they could spend some time with me.”
My eyebrows raise. “Two kids?”
Paisley grins. “I know, right? Patty and Robert were always crazy for each other, and they got married about six months after graduation.” There’s a wistful note to her voice, her lashes fluttering, hiding her eyes.
“So much has changed, and it’s like coming back to an entirely different town.
I just wish some things could have stayed the same. ”
I shouldn’t ask, but the question falls out anyway. “Like what?”
She lifts a shoulder, her eyes not quite meeting mine as she gives a pained smile. “For starters, it seems like everyone is too busy for me. Even Nick.” She pauses before lowering her voice, confessing hesitantly, “I enjoyed talking with you last week. I thought you enjoyed talking with me too.”
I close my eyes, a wave of exhaustion rolling through me.
I did enjoy talking with her—it was easy, focusing on our shared memories and a time in my life when I wasn’t stressed about relationships, houses, and death.
It was like no time had passed at all, and I was even able to look past the hurt of the way she had cut me from her life like I meant nothing to her.
Shaking the thought off, I sigh heavily. “Look, Paisley, I’ve gotta get home and get some sleep. We’ll catch up soon, okay?”
I heard everything Gracie said, but Paisley and I have known each other our entire lives. I can’t just brush her off, pretending like our history means nothing.
“You promise?” Paisley asks hopefully. “It’s been a rough couple of months, and I could really use a friend.”
At the last word, my smile grows more genuine, and her shoulders ease. “Promise. We’ll always be friends, Paisley.”