My whole life, I’ve tried to make things easier for those in my life, hoping it will mean they’re more accepting ofme. I carried that over from my parents into my relationship, forcing a distance between us without meaning to.
“Do you think Braxton and I can move past this?” I ask Nolan. “We haven’t talked about Paisley. Not really. He says he’s okay with what happened between us…but if he slept with Paisley, I don’t think I would ever forgive him. Even after we broke up.” I grimace. “Does that make me a terrible person?”
“No,” Nolan says. “It makes you honest and flawed.” He shakes off his introspective expression, knocking his elbow against mine. “I think if anyone can turn this shit show around, it’s you and Braxton.”
“I don’t want to feel angry anymore,” I murmur distractedly. “Not at Braxton…and not at Paisley or my parents or anyone else. I just want…” I trail off, shaking my head.
“To live?” Nolan suggests. “To be in love? To build the family you’ve never had, but always dreamed of?”
Air rushes from my lips as the fire station door opens and Braxton steps out in a cotton SCFD shirt and cargo pants. He’s already searching, like he knows I’m out here, and something eases in my chest at the sight of him.
Our eyes lock, and even from here, I can see the way his expression brightens as he heads in our direction, eyes flashing with determination.
“Yes,” I tell Nolan. “All of the above.”
A week later,Bridget, Nolan, and I are sitting around a table at Benson’s, having impromptu farewell drinks for Nolan. He’s organized everything to move back home in two days, his brother having already picked up the keys for his new apartment.
He invited Braxton to come tonight. He had a group session with Stevie in Ashland, so he promised to come by when he got back, saying he’ll drag Nick along with him.
“So, what?” Bridget’s asking Nolan as she sips on her wine. “You come along, put Gracie back together, and then just leave?”
His lip curls up. “I think she put herself back together.”
“I’m sitting right here,” I huff, swiping a fry from the basket on the table and dipping it in ketchup. “And I’m pretty sure broken is just the condition I come in now.” I wave the saucy fry in the air. “No returns, no refunds. Buyer beware.”
Bridget’s eyes crinkle when she laughs. “Get insurance before you take her out for a test spin, because if she breaks down on your way home, you’re shit out of luck.”
Nolan snorts, lifting his beer. “Good to know. Does the insurance cover sarcasm, or is that considered a pre-existing condition?”
I stuff the fry into my mouth, rolling my eyes. “You two are regular clowns,” I grumble, pinning a glare on Nolan. “You know what? I’m glad you’re leaving. You can be Elyse’s problem.”
“Think Elyse has enough problems with her imaginary boyfriend,” he mutters back, and Bridget’s eyes widen, ping-ponging between us.
“I’m going to need more information,” she declares.
“Not it!” I slap my hands against the table, standing up. “I’m going to go get us another round of drinks.” I narrow my eyes on the rapidly disappearing fries. “And maybe something else to eat. Be right back.”
I can hear Nolan telling Bridget about Elyse and Reed—her “online only” boyfriend who no one has ever spoken to or seen—as I head over to the bar, giving my order to the bartender.
I tap my hands against the wooden surface as I wait, humming along to the easy rock music playing in the background, barely able to feel the way the skin pulls across my back when I sway to the music. The sutures were removed yesterday, and while my back still itches like a bitch, and aches whenever I lie on my back, I am almost at a point where I can put it all behind me.
Physically, at least.
My mind was another matter. I still haven’t returned to work, terrified of stepping through the florist’s doors. Maryann is being more than understanding, and I know it is because she feels guilty over the lack of security in the shop, but it isn’t her fault. No one could have known that a drug addict was going to roll into town and start targeting businesses for quick cash.
I had a therapist just after I moved out of my parents’ home to help deal with all the invisible scars they had left on me, but I’ve made the decision to find a new one. I won’t let my current or past issues continue to have any kind of significant impact on my life and future, even if that future isn’t with Braxton.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t hear the staccato beat of heels approaching. Someone comes to stand at my side, their cloying perfume reaching me over the smell of booze and fried food, but I keep my focus on the bartender.
A throat clears, and I turn to the side curiously, my eyes widening when I find Paisley standing there, glaring at me coldly.
Her mother stands just behind her shoulder, eyes flicking around apprehensively. As I watch, Esther juts her jaw out stubbornly, obviously committing to whatever farce her daughter is playing out.
CHAPTER 33
Gracie
“What can I do for you, Paisley?” I ask in a bored tone, leaning back against the bar. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bridget looking this way, her mouth moving, and I know she’s filling Nolan in.
