“Today is just a start. I want to know this version of my daughter. The one where she is a business owner and dates athletes.”
“Okay, it was one athlete. Won’t happen again, that’s for damn sure.” I unzipped the front of my purse to get the keys to the place. Hope blossomed in my chest as we got closer to the destination, and despite the turmoil and leftover hurt from Brigham, this was my next Chapter. “I want to know you too, Mom. I want to text you pictures and laugh and have mimosas on weekends, but it takes two people to do that.”
“I know.” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I’ll be better.”
“I’d like that.”
We finished the drive to the house in a comfortable silence, and another weight lifted off my shoulders. The feud with my mom had eaten at me for a lot of reasons, but mainly, I hated not including my parents in my life. They judged me often, but I liked getting meals and seeing them. It had been too long, and maybe we’d all change from the distance. “Thank you,” I said as she pulled into the driveway. “For doing this.”
“I’m glad Megan told me about it.”
“I’ll deal with her later.”
“She’s a good girl,” my mom said, pulling me into a stiff hug. “Can I come in?”
“Today, no. I need this. For me. I want to sleep in my own place to prove to myself I can. But soon, I want you and Dad over. I promise.”
“Okay. Good.” She cupped my face. “Blue Bells Boarding, huh?”
Brigham’s idea had stuck with me and I hid my flinch. “Yup.”
“It’s a wonderful name.”
I nodded and took my time getting out of the car. She waited until I got inside before driving away, and the magnitude of it hit me. I had my place. It was mine. I sank onto the floor, resting my head on the duffel bag, and stared at the ceiling fan. My dream was literally coming true, and I hated so much that the first person I wanted to share it with was Brigham.
I closed my eyes and let myself wallow for thirty seconds—okay, five minutes—before getting up and walking the place. I did a full perimeter scan before a light thud carried over from outside. Someone locked their car with a little beep before there was a knock.
Who could it be? Neighbors welcoming me?I smiled, trod through the hallway, flung open the door and gasped. “Brigham.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brigham
My heart about exploded seeing her in her place, wearing nothing but those tiny cut-off shorts and a blue tank top that matched the ends of her hair. My plan to convince her to give us another chance evaporated from my brain on seeing her. I loved her so fucking much and missed everything about her.
Everything.
Her freckles and blue hair and laugh.
Where did I start? What was my plan? Sweat pooled on my brow and lower back the longer I stood there in silence. I jutted the bouquet of blue flowers at her and reached into my pocket for my sheet of paper. I had to wipe my palms on my jeans twice because they were so damp. “Uh, hi,” I said, sounding like a goddamn idiot. “I brought you flowers.”
“Yes. You shoved them at me,” she said, looking at me with wide eyes and parted lips. “Why are you here? How did you even know?”
“Can I come in?”
She hesitated and I swallowed, painfully. “It’s hot out here—please?”
“Fine.” She ushered me in but kept her distance, once she locked the door and crossed her arms over her stomach, holding the flowers off to the side, and had a permanent line between her eyebrows. “Why are you here, Brigham?”
“To do whatever it takes to get a second chance with you.” There, I’d said it. Put the truth into the world. I waited until she met my gaze and swallowed down the absolute terror that she could say no. That too much damage had been done. “I need to explain quite a few things to you, mainly about what you heard that day in the hall and how it wasn’t exactly all true.”
Her eyelids fluttered and she took a deep breath—while continuing to watch me with hesitant yet curious blue eyes.Score.She wet her bottom lip with her tongue before biting down on it. “And if I don’t care?”
“If you let me explain, and want nothing to do with me, I’ll respect your choice. I swear.”
She sighed, not meeting my eyes.
Shit, that wasn’t a good sign. “I fired Charles,” I said.
