Chapter 49
brIE
My brain is chaos, a jumbled mess of words, as I lead a reluctant Sawyer up to my bedroom, hugging Squeakers to me.
Now that I have his full attention, I want to tell him everything.
So that when I say those three words, he feels the weight of them.
I need him to understand why I’ve been holding back.
I lead him to the bed, and it takes two tugs of his hand before he sighs and sits down next to me. His body is tight and I can tell, one wrong word and he’ll be gone.
My mind scrambles for how to start. How do I tell someone all my deepest secrets? All my fears?
Swallowing, I reach under my bed and pull out my old JanSport. I lay it between us.
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Brie, if this is a walk down Memory Lane, I’m not interested.”
When he starts to stand, I reach for his hand. “Please!”
He sits, but he takes his hand back. My chest caves in at the pain of the rejection.
I look down at Squeakers, still in my tight grip. “My mom used to call me her Brie Cheese.” My chest fills with love and grief at the nickname. “Everything I had was second-hand from Gia. Everything. Except this mouse, and I had her for as long as I could remember.”
Sawyer is silent beside me, and I can’t look over at him. If I do, I might lose my nerve, and I have to be brave. I need to get this out.
“Squeakers was the only thing I had from her when she died. One night, in a drunken rage, my dad threw out everything that reminded him of Mom.” I still remember the way his eyes landed on Squeakers.
The way he stomped toward me. “Gia stopped him before he could take her away from me, and I never let her out of my sight after that. She was always in my backpack, even at school.”
Sawyer’s indrawn breath is loud, but I keep my gaze firmly on the mouse in my lap.
“Dad wasn’t just a stain on the town.” I laugh humorlessly. “I mean, to even call him ‘Dad’ is more than he deserved. He spiraled worse and worse, especially after Gia left. I was trying to take care of everything, basically raising Mara on my own.”
Sawyer’s big body grows more tense. He shifts, and suddenly he’s closer, elbow brushing mine. I shiver at the contact.
“It was all on me. I had to keep everything together without drawing attention because if I didn’t, they’d take Mara away.
Me too, probably. We’d both go into foster care, get split up.
” My voice hardens. “There was no way I was going to let that happen. I worked every spare second. I tried to keep up with school. With what Gia sent home, we had just enough to pay the bills and for food.”
It’s not until Sawyer’s hand covers mine that I realize I’m shaking.
“Brie,” he chokes out, “I had no idea it was that bad.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I was always so scared someone would find out. Every time I couldn’t pay a bill, every time I had to bail out our dad, I worried someone would figure it out.”
Sawyer’s thumb traces over my knuckles, but I ignore the sensation, focusing on the words.
“I had to hide everything from everyone, all the time.”
This was something Gia, Mara, and I discussed over and over again this past week.
I cut myself off from everyone because it was how I operated for so long.
It was a survival skill drummed into me at an early age that I’d never let go of.
Except now, it was doing damage, hurting relationships with people I love, people I want to let in.
“My dad, our rundown house, my second-hand clothes—I was ashamed of all of it.”
“You were a kid, Brie.” Sawyer’s voice holds so much anger that I can’t help looking up. His eyes are dark, jaw clenched. “You had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”
This time, it’s easier to hold his gaze.
Something about his words take away some of my fear, makes it easier to admit the next part.
“I’m still ashamed. It’s like when you talked about those sodas at the Chateau Brume picnics.
I was embarrassed to tell you I never tasted them because I’d never been to one.
My dad would never take a day off drinking to take us to one, and I wouldn’t have wanted him to anyway because he would’ve made a fool out of all of us. ”
“Christ, Brie. I wish I’d known.”
I give him a faint smile. “What would you have done? Nothing. At least not back then, you had your own problems to deal with.”
“Fuck that,” he spits. “I could’ve made your life easier, rather than harder.
I could’ve helped you. Instead, I tortured you, made it so even school wasn’t a safe place for you.
” His mouth is a tight slash on his face as he surges to his feet.
“I even took the last connection you had to your mom.” He jabs a finger toward Squeakers as he starts pacing.
“But you kept her,” I say, shoving Squeakers toward him. “You didn’t do what your friends wanted because you were too good for that.”
He’s shaking his head, barely listening. “How the fuck can you even stand to look at me?”
“Because you were going through a lot back then too. We both know that. And . . .” I take a deep breath. “Because I love you.”
He stops dead in his tracks, his back to me, shoulders tense. “What did you just say?”
“I love you.”
When he turns, I see the hope on his face beneath the outrage. “You shouldn’t . . .”
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “It’s done. You showed me who you are, and I love you for it. My whole life, I was afraid of letting someone get too close. I was afraid of needing someone. But, Sawyer, I’m not afraid anymore.” The second the words come out, I know it’s true. I’m not afraid of this.
He hesitates for the briefest of moments before stomping to me and dropping to his knees, bowing his head so his forehead rests on my lap. I lay Squeakers on the bed and bury my fingers in his hair. He shudders.
After a moment, he looks up, eyes rimmed red. “I love you, too. You have no idea how much. I will spend the rest of my life showing you every day just how much I love you.” His eyes dim. “And how sorry I am.”
My fingers flex, tugging his hair. “Don’t. Let it lie. The truth is, I always knew who you were deep down. I always had feelings for you. A part of me always loved you.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t say that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to say that, Brie.”
“It’s true.” I reach for the JanSport. “Let me show you.”