CHAPTER 48 Ford Bradley
What the Fuck Did You Do to Her?
She’s been gone a week now, and each day that passes pushes me a little further down into a hole I’m not sure I’ll be able to climb out of.
It’s dark down here. It’s lonely. I hate it.
I miss her. My chest aches for her. My stomach feels like it’s constantly in knots, and the pain doesn’t ease up day after day. If anything, it just gets worse.
It’s like a piece of me is missing, an essential piece that she took with her, and I want it back. I want her back.
I text her daily, mainly to check in, but also to wish her a good morning and a good night.
She doesn’t always reply, and I’m trying to adhere to the boundaries she’s setting even though my heart is telling me to fight harder. I don’t know where the line of her boundary exists. I want to give her space, but I also don’t. I want her right back here by my side.
She said she needed time, and I’m trying to give her that even though I don’t want to.
She’ll be back. I keep telling myself that. She has to come back. She has appointments lined up, though they’re still two weeks away.
How do I continue through this storm for another two weeks?
I’m not sure how to answer that.
I just want to figure out how to get her back, and I feel like I know the answer, but I’ve been too scared to make the call.
Scared of what…I’m not quite sure. Maybe admitting I made a mistake. Maybe showing a weakness. Maybe taking on the Bradley curse. Maybe finding out it’s too late. Then what?
But there are also the other effects I’m putting in jeopardy—burning bridges with my realtor and the buyer, for one thing. Not to mention the financial impacts of trying to halt wheels already in motion.
And not only all that, but there’s the fact that I’m willing to back down on all this to give her what she wants—what she needs—but that doesn’t automatically mean she’s going to come running back.
What if I do this, execute this senseless plan, and end up right back where I am?
What if it’s not really what she wants at all and I’m completely mishandling the entire situation?
For someone who lives by practicality and responsibility, well…doing what feels like the right choice isn’t either of those. And in bending who I am as a man, what if I’m giving Tatum a version of myself that isn’t what she wants?
What if all of this backfires and I end up worse off than I am now?
This is what I’ve been pondering for days now, and sitting around my condo isn’t giving me the answers I’m looking for.
It’s why working out with friends yesterday morning felt good. Great, even. It gave me the chance to blow off some steam, and at the same time, it helped take my mind off the things I’m not sure how to fix right now.
I needed it. I needed to get out, to think about something different for a while.
It gave me a little perspective, I think. That paired with my conversation with Cole has me questioning the way I’ve handled everything…and the way to get it all back before it’s too late.
I call Liam and tell him what Cole suggested.
“You think there’s a way to back out of the sale?” he asks.
“I think until the ink is dry, there’s always a way. Right? But I don’t know what to do.”
“I didn’t want you to sell in the first place,” he reminds me. “So I’m not exactly sure what you want me to say here.”
“But you’d be okay with me hanging onto it and letting Tatum reno the place?” I ask.
“It’s not like any of us are ever going to live there again.
Even Ivy already moved out. I just wanted it to stay in the family.
You know? The legacy Dad always talks about, the same one we always roll our eyes over.
I guess we all just have so many core memories there that I don’t want to let it go if we don’t have to.
And Tatum is family. She wants to work with Madden on the reno.
Also family. He would preserve it. You know that.
Ev could have her wedding there. We could bring our kids there to run around the backyard between events. Nerf wars in an even bigger space.”
“There you go talking about kids again,” I mutter. “What about your bail money?”
He blows out a breath. “A million bucks is a lot. Would I like it back? Yes. Of course. I could invest it, make more money off of it, whatever. But am I going to be okay if it’s tied up in court for a while? Also yes.”
His words give me something to think about.
As I sit at dinner on Tuesday evening by myself at my kitchen table, I’m halfway between bewildered and shocked when my phone starts to ring and I see who’s calling.
I pick up, fully expecting my brother to gloat that he got her back and I’m left in the dust.
“Hello?”
He shocks me further by saying, “What the fuck did you do to her, man?”
“I didn’t do anything,” I protest.
“Bullshit. She left Vegas with a light in her eyes, and you put it out in just over two months.”
Guilt racks me at his words. “I didn’t mean to, but trust when I say that she put mine out, too.”
“Then figure your shit out so I don’t have to step in and figure it out for you,” he mutters. “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to comfort your ex when she’s crying over her new husband who happens to be your older brother?”
I blow out a breath. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“By hurting her?”
“By protecting myself. One of my biggest fears in any relationship is that I’m only being used for my money and my connections. Did she tell you the reason she walked away?”
“Do you really think she’d do that?” he asks, not answering my question.
When it really comes down to it, the answer is clear. She wouldn’t use me for those things, but that doesn’t mean she can’t reap the benefits of being with someone with connections anyway—the same way I could reap benefits with various investments of my own connected to her business. “No.”
“Then get her the fuck back, you idiot.”
“I thought you were calling to brag that she came running to you.”
“She did come running to me, but not for whatever leap you might be making. It was very clear that what she and I had is in the past. But you? You’re her future, Ford.
Well, you know—if you can figure out some way to show her that you believe in her.
Because I have to be honest with you. I’ve never seen her like this.
She’s lost, and she needs you to find her. ”
I blow out a breath as the pain of his words slices into my chest. I hate that she’s feeling that way, but I also know that a few days away for perspective is in line with her personality.
It used to be me she ran to. I’ve never given her a reason to run the other way.
Until now.
And I need to fucking fix this.