I became my mother for a short season of life.
When Lucy and Lorelai pushed me to start therapy, I listened. That got me out of the drinking habit, but not the other thing.
I gave myself away, time after time. After a couple of years, I stopped. Then Daniel came along, and I gave myself to him because I thought he would be the one. The universe only knew I would never be good enough for Braxton by that point.
Broken. Used. Discarded. No good.
But he loves you anyway,a voice inside my head whispers. It’s faint, and I’m not exactly sure where it’s coming from because I’ve never been known to speak too kindly to myself.
The voice isn’t wrong. Braxton knows my past, though admittedly not the cause of my downward spiral through college, and he still wanted me. Wants me. Loves me.
Yet here I am pushing him away. What in the world is wrong with me? Why am I so messed up? Why can’t I just accept the love he wants to give me?
Against my inner critic countering every small, positive whisper from somewhere else inside my mind, and against the pounding of my head, I throw on sweats and t-shirt, tie my hair into a knot on top of my head, brush my teeth, and run to Braxton’s room, hoping…praying…he’s there.
My heart races with each step towards his room. I make it, finally, and take a moment to place my hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath.
Before I can knock, his door opens. I stare into his stunned expression, then I throw myself on him, allowing more salty tears to escape from my eyes.
“Hadley, what’s wrong?” Braxton’s voice isn’t right. It’s missing the softness and concern usually laced in words like that. In fact, I’m holding onto him. His arms are at his sides instead of around me.
Did I ruin things between us before they could ever truly begin?
“In college, my freshman year,” I begin. My only hope of a future with Braxton is to tell him the truth. He deserves to know, like Mary Anne told me. “I was at a party, and I think someone slipped something into my drink.” The words come out stuttered through tears and sniffles. “I was…I was…” I try, but I can’t say the word.
Braxton’s arms wrap around me, one snaking around my waist and the other firmly resting against the back of my head. He holds me tight against him.
“You don’t have to finish.” His voice sounds splintered and ice cold. The voice I never wanted to hear nor be the cause of creating. But I had to tell him. Mary Anne was right. He holds me so tightly against him that I can’t move. When he finally lets go, I meet his burning eyes, so opposite of his chilling voice moments ago.
“I’m sorry,” I say. Those are the only words I know to say.
“Never,” his voice warns, “be sorry.”
I shouldn’t ask the question, but it’s dying to escape. “Do you still want to be with me?”
To my surprise, Braxton laughs. Not a boisterous sound, but a soft, unbelieving sound. He takes my face between his hands and holds it there as he searches my eyes with his own.
“Hadley Anne Dawson. You are the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted. Nothing,nothing, could ever make me want you any less. Love you any less. Do you hear me, you crazy, beautiful woman? Do you understand?”
With a single gulp and a nod, I let him claim my lips.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Braxton
Bankonthis:ifI ever find the name of the sick, sorry excuse of a man who did that to Hadley all those years ago, when she was only eighteen, you can believe I’ll kill him. I don’t care that I’ll go to jail.
I clench my fists at my side, willing myself to calm down. Hadley has been with Mary Anne for the majority of the day prepping for the wedding that starts in—I check my watch—fifteen minutes. And while she’s been with the bride, I’ve been brainstorming a million different ways to become a murderer.
It’s not healthy, I know. But I feel so helpless. I breathe out a heavy groan as I sit back in my seat waiting for the wedding to begin. A few people give me concerned looks, but I ignore them.
Why didn’t she tell me sooner? How did I not see it? Sure, I noticed when she had changed and began going down a dark road during her freshman year, but I didn’t thinkthatwas be the triggering factor. I simply thought she’d finally caved to the stress that had been weighing on her shoulders for her entire life. I didn’t blame her, though I did try to stop her. It never worked, and she accused me of trying to save her as always. That’s when I had Lucy and Lorelai step in, and it helped. At least partially.
But I guess that’s reality.
I can’t save her. I’ve never been able to, no matter how hard I try or want to.
Only God can do the saving.
