Chapter 42
CHARLOTTE
My dream of summer and swimming in the ocean at Brandon’s Malibu home has switched to arriving in the southern part of Australia in early spring, and I was warned it’s cold.
I wouldn’t trade it as I’m going to be with him, and it beats fighting the heavy pain in my chest from worrying every other second.
Our phone calls have been short. He’s struggled for words to say other than a hoarse thank you.
Our text messages are even shorter.
If I know Brandon, he will be filled with guilt that I’m leaving my job, my family, and everything I love to be with him. Then he’ll persecute himself for being selfish. If only he knew I’m the selfish one as I can’t live another day without him.
I love him and will run to wherever he is in the world faster than one of Byron’s bullet passes.
The plane lands in a gray fog that came from the ocean.
It was the universe preparing me that the days to come were not going to be bright and sunny.
Literally. The ocean I longed for is there, but only a tease.
As we descended, I was close enough to see the white caps of a turbulent sea, angry and unhospitable.
Do something once, and the memory comes back to you.
Like navigating the smaller airport. I’m through customs quickly, and when I get to the gates, I see him. Tall, standing above the crowd. I want to run into Brandon’s arms and kiss him like a lost lover, but everything has changed since the last time.
The moment he sees me, he cracks a subtle smile. Without a word, he takes my bag from my hand and pulls me in for a welcoming hug. He nuzzles his face into my shoulder, and strong arms around my back tighten.
We don’t move.
Commuters walk around us, but we remain still as though time is nothing, and we need to savor the moment. When Brandon lifts his head, his lips immediately find mine. He tastes of salt from silent tears he’s never bothered to wipe away.
Taking his face in my hands, I break the kiss. My heart sinks at the tiredness in his eyes. He looks… older. And so fucking sad. “Hey, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He has that look that he doesn’t believe me. Or that I will run if things become hard.
Whatever he is thinking, he is wrong.
“We will do this together,” I say firmly, leaving no room for argument.
He leans his forehead on mine. “Thank you, Lottie.” It’s only a whisper, but it’s the first words he has spoken since I arrived.
I look around for a moment—no Dwayne to direct me or organize my luggage and ride, and Ewan is nowhere to be seen.
In one hand, Brandon takes my hand, and with the other, he rolls my suitcase out to the parking lot.
Everything is smaller, just as I remember.
I inhale a sharp breath when the cold air hits my face, and he is quick to open my door.
When I slide inside the car, I send a text to my family, alerting them to my arrival, then ready myself for a silent drive to his home.
His home? I wait until we are on the main road to ask. “Are you living with your parents?”
He nods, looking at me briefly before focusing back on the road. “I want to stay close to everyone.”
I understand. “Did you ever buy another house here?”
“Nuh. I invested most of my money back ho—” He stops himself. “In the US. I bought a new home for my parents, and it’s where I stayed for the short time I came home to visit.”
“Home. It’s hard to know where that is sometimes,” I murmur. I look at him, and he reaches for my hand while keeping his eyes on the road. “But I know it’s with you, wherever that is. Maybe we have multiple homes.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he says flatly.
“My mom used to say, Home is where the heart is. And my home is with you.” He lifts my hand and brings it to his lips.
We drive for only another five minutes before we pull up at a house on the esplanade. A beach house. I should have guessed. “This is new.”
“Yeah, sold the house from the last time you were here. They have been in this house for two years.”
I smile at Brandon. “It’s beautiful.”
Pausing for a moment, he takes the time to look at it.
“Yeah, it is. Haven’t really had the time to enjoy the location.
And…” he shakes his head, “… Mum is inside waiting.” He unlocks the door and wheels my suitcase inside.
I follow him into the foyer, a small area with wooden stairs leading to an upper level.
Peering around him, I see a number of doors.
“Your… our room is upstairs. I’ll take you there in a sec. Mum is in the living room. Her bedroom is on this level, close to the kitchen and living room. She spends much of her day watching TV.”
“How often does she have treatment?”
He stares at the door before answering, “Every two weeks. It’s her third round. She waited for four weeks past her mastectomy before commencing chemo. Her hair has fallen out already. She’s… weak.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I take his hand. “She needs to focus on getting better.”
He turns his head and stares at the tiled floor as though he needs to say something in private.
“She waited until after the championships to have surgery. It had already spread to her lymph nodes, which is why she needs more chemo. If only she told me and didn’t wait.
” His eyes lift and meet mine. “If only she understood basketball was never more important than her life,” he says between clenched teeth.
“I would have come home. Why she thought it was more important to see me play in a championship infuriates me.”
I understand why.
Brandon gave his life to the sport.
And as a mother, she wanted to support his dream.
I run a hand over his scruffy jaw. He hasn’t shaven in weeks. The signs are there. He’s already going through the grief process.
“Is it the same reason you didn’t ask me to come?” His eyes flick over my face. “Because you thought a stupid team was more important than us?”
“It’s your work, Lottie. Besides, there is nothing you can do to help here.”
That fucking hurts.
I step up into his face. “I disagree.” Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pull him close to me. “Being here to support you means a lot to me. And if there is anything I can do to help your mom, then count me in.”
He nods slowly. “Okay, then let’s go and say hello.” He opens the door that leads to an open area—the kitchen, dining and living room. His mom is sitting in a recliner chair, watching the television.
She looks up at us and releases the foot of the chair. She is paler than the last time I saw her. “Charlotte. It’s lovely to see you.” She adjusts the beanie on her head and pulls the sleeves of her sweater low before standing.
I hug her lightly, scared I’ll bruise her. “Mrs. Johns. I hope it’s not rude of me to come, but I want to help in any way I can.”
She looks at Brandon and then back at me. “We appreciate it. Though, I don’t do much, love, other than sit in the chair.”
“I can make us meals, drive you around. Anything to be useful.” I catch Brandon’s smile out the corner of my eye.
“You can’t cook, Lottie.” He looks at his mom. “Don’t agree to it, Mum. She’ll poison us.”
We all laugh, and for the first time, I feel a tiny bit useful even if the jokes are about me.
“Here we go. The poor-little-rich girl puns begin.”
Brandon’s grin widens. “Left yourself wide open there. Leave the cooking up to me.”
I shrug my shoulders. “A girl can learn. Besides, I have other skills.” His face changes to wanting to say something funny, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at his mother.
“Guess it’s the right time to tell her about our venture.”
“The winery? I already know.”
His mom laughs as she lowers herself back in the chair. “She’s one step ahead of you, love.”
He shakes his head. “But she hasn’t seen it.”
“Then go, please,” his mom says quickly. “You’re interrupting my episode of Yellowstone.”
I look at the television.
“I’m learning all about America,” she says proudly.
“Oh, that’s not—” I stop myself and look at Brandon. “Show me where to put my suitcase, then shall we take a drive so I can see our new business?”
Already, my man looks a little brighter. “Sure. But remember, this time, I’m the CEO.”
I follow him out of the room and up the stairs to our bedroom. It’s small, with a window looking out to the ocean. “CEO,” I say quietly as I sit on the bed and bounce a little. “I’m looking forward to you bossing me around tonight.”
“Who said I’m waiting for tonight.”