Chapter 20 Brady #2
“Six, I think,” Collins said.
“How do you live your life with them just…being around all the time?” I asked as I spun and moved my car.
Collins shrugged. “I don’t know anything different. It doesn’t bother me.”
“None of them here are like the other one, right?”
“Not in the slightest,” she said. “They’re kind of annoying, but harmless. I don’t really know anything about them, though.”
“You haven’t been able to hear any snippets around here?”
“Not yet,” she said.
“Hopefully soon,” I said, and moved my car four spaces. “Dammit. Twins,” I said, reading the space.
“Ugh, yeah, twins are awful,” Collins laughed. I tried to remember the last time I felt this at ease with someone else, but I couldn’t.
I saw Collins wrap one of her arms around her middle as she used the other one to spin. “Are you cold?” I asked. It did feel kind of chilly in here.
“I always forget that when the power goes out, so does the heat,” she said. I reached behind myself and grabbed the blanket I kept on the couch.
I scooted around the game board, so we were no longer on opposite but adjacent sides of it, and close enough together that I could put the blanket over both of our shoulders.
“Thank you,” Collins said as she moved her car. “Fuck, not the divorce.”
“I’ve heard first husbands are always a dud anyway.”
“Good point.” Collins grinned. “Um, speaking of commitments that don’t work out…”
“You want to know why I called off my engagement,” I finished for her. She looked down and nodded.
“I’ve maybe been wondering about it since you first told me.”
“We just weren’t right for each other.”
“How did you know that? Just a feeling?”
“More like a deep, aching sense of dread,” I said.
“We met because my roommate was dating her sister. We kept getting thrown together in every group situation, so at some point we just kind of decided to be together because it was convenient. I’m not saying we didn’t have good times or that I didn’t care about her, but I think I was mostly just going through the motions of what I thought my life should be like.
“When the basis of your entire relationship is convenience, it’s hard to care enough about someone to grow with them instead of apart from them.
For the last couple of years, we were more like roommates than a couple.
We didn’t care enough about each other to grow together. I was just really unhappy.”
“Did you tell her that?”
I nodded. “I did. She told me it would pass. Instead, it just seeped into every part of my life, and then it became more than being unhappy with my life—I was unhappy with myself. Now that I’m on the outside of it, and because of therapy, I realize that Jackie liked control, and the closer I got to rock bottom, the more malleable I got.
It took me longer than it should have to realize how shell-like I’d become.
I couldn’t stay there anymore—couldn’t be that guy.
I realized that it was more important to me to leave and try to find a great thing than stay for a sure thing that felt detrimental to me. ”
“I’m so sorry, Brady,” Collins whispered. “You deserve better than that.”
“I know,” I said. “I tried not to be a dick about it, but there’s really no way around that when you’re breaking off an engagement for a reason that feels more conceptual than concrete—especially when you’re trying to communicate that to a woman who’s logical and literal in every sense of the word. ”
“Was it worth it? Blowing up your whole life because there could maybe be something better out there?” Collins asked. Her eyes were so soft.
I thought about the motorcycle I bought after I broke off the engagement.
I thought about what it felt like to ride it through different states and on winding roads.
I thought about how I felt the first time I saw Sweetwater Peak on the horizon—like there was a whole world out there waiting for me, and this small town was just the start.
I thought about old churches and attics. I thought about the paint on my shop windows, and my full books. I thought about the Sweetwater River, and most of all, I thought about the woman beside me who could talk to ghosts. “Yeah,” I said, looking at her. “It was worth it.”
Then, as if a gust of air blew through the apartment, all of the candles went out, and Collins and I were left in the dark. I felt the air start to charge up with my breath.
“Was that…?”
“I don’t know,” Collins breathed. Our shoulders were touching, and I felt her shift her body to face mine. “Brady.”
“Yeah?” I said. My voice was low.
I heard Collins swallow. “It’s not just one-sided.” I brought my hand to the side of her face and lowered my forehead to hers.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know, Collins.” I felt Collins’s hand in my shirt, and I used my other hand to pull the blanket tighter around us. “Do we still have an audience?”
Collins pulled away from me to look around the apartment. “No, not anymore,” she said. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to kiss you now,” I said before I brought my mouth to hers.
There was no hesitancy, no questioning. As soon as our lips touched, her hands were in my hair, and I felt like I couldn’t get close enough to her.
I pushed up on my knees, and she came with me.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, and made sure there was no space between us.
Her tongue slid against my lip, and I opened my mouth for her with a groan. I followed her lead, tangling my tongue with hers and moving my hands across her back, down to her waist, and back up to her face until I felt lightheaded.
I pulled back to catch my breath. “You’re good at that,” I said.
“So are you.” Thank god she sounded out of breath, too.
“Again?” I asked. Or, maybe begged.
“Again,” Collins agreed.