A few minutes later, she sets a coffee down in front of me before taking up position at my father’s shoulder, her own mug in her hand. She doesn’t speak straight away, staring at me until a lengthy sigh escapes her.
“First of all,didyou go to your counseling session yesterday?” She waits for my jerky nod before asking, “How did it go?”
I don’t want to talk about it, but going off the vibe here, I want to talk about thenextsubject even less. “Fine, I guess.”
She taps her nails against her ceramic mug, her eyes unblinking. “Esther called me last night. She told me that you and Paisley met up and spent the day together.”
The words send shame coursing through my body—ahot reminder of what I allowed to happen. It’s the last thing I expected Mom to bring up. It’s a conscious effort to keep my expression neutral as she watches me, her eyes narrowed.
“Yeaaah,” I drag out slowly, my throat too tight. “What about it?”
Mom turns to look at Dad pointedly, and he shakes his head, muttering a curse. “Braxton…”
“Wait—No.” I shake my head wildly, defensiveness rising rapidly at the disappointment on their faces. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but no. Paisley was just…there. I went and got something to eat after the counseling session. Trying to settle myself, I guess. And she showed up.” They share another look that’s filled with disbelief, and a dozen thoughts rush through my head, tumbling over each other, not a single one making sense.
Mom sets her mug down, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “Esther is under the impression that something very different happened yesterday.” She inhales through her nose, like she’s trying to gather patience, before pinning a stern stare on me. “We knew about your feelings for Paisley before she left. You weren’t as subtle as you liked to think you were. I’m not sure Joseph or Esther were aware, but…well, Esther is pretty enamored with the idea of it now.”
“Idea of what?” I demand. “There’s nothing for her to be enamoredwith.”
Dad huffs irritably as he lifts his coffee to his mouth. “Bloody nonsense, if you ask me. That girl is flighty and spoiled.”
“Stephen…” Mom chides.
“Don’t argue. You know I’m right. Paisley’s got Joseph and Esther wrapped around her little finger, and she always has. Can you imagine us flying to Analise for every holiday, like they have with that girl? All becauseshe never wanted to give her life up there, even for a measly weekend. And now she’s back here and causing trouble.”
“You don’t know that’s why she didn’t come back,” Mom counters.
My father scowls, opening his mouth to argue, but I cut in, croaking, “Paisley hasn’t done anything wrong.”
He flicks a dark look at me. “No, I don’t imagine she did. She doesn’t owe anything to Gracie.” There’s a long, tense pause, his expression drawn in aggravation. “Youdo.”
My panic surges into anger, my vision narrowing into a pinprick as they both stare at me. “I haven’t done anything, either,” I snap defensively. “Paisley is a friend.Myfriend. I’m not just going to ignore her?—”
Mom slaps a hand against the marble, dragging our attention to her. “This isn’t even about Paisley. This is about you.”
I scrub a hand through my hair, wishing I’d just stayed in Gracie’s bed. “What about me?” I ask tiredly.
“Esther wasn’t the only one to call me yesterday,” Mom declares. “Marjorie called me, too, because she couldn’t get a hold of you, and she didn’t have Gracie’s number.”
My stomach sinks to my feet.Lower.I don’t need her to say a word, reaching for my phone like I’m going for a bomb. I flick through the missed calls and voicemails, searching through each one until I see them. Three calls in total—all yesterday, all from Marjorie. A quick swipe into my email apps shows two unread ones from her agency, both withUrgentprinted in the subject line.
“Oh, Braxton,” Mom says, her voice gentling. I look up just as her expression falls at whatever she sees on my face. “What have you done?”
The house is gone.
My gut cramps painfully—a startling reminder that Ihaven’t eaten except for some popcorn and candy at the theater last night.
I can’t think. Everything is muffled, like it’s coming from underwater, the world moving sluggishly around me. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Gracie because she thinks I have it all in hand. I reassured her more than once, telling her not to worry about anything. Itoldher that I’d get the paperwork for the offer in…but then I just didn’t.
Why didn’t I?
I lean back against the couch, listening as my parents murmur to each other in the kitchen, probably talking about me and what a fuckup I am.They’re not goddamn wrong.
I stand up, keys already in hand, and make for the door, calling out over my shoulder, “Heading out. I’ll call you later.”
I hear Mom call my name, but I slip out before she can catch me, practically jogging for my truck. When I’m safe behind the wheel, I palm my phone, but my earlier message to Gracie still hasn’t been read.
Hands shaking, I pull up Marjorie’s contact. It rings three times before she answers, “Good morning, Braxton.” There’s an unimpressed air to her voice, and it makes me feel about three inches tall. “I’ve been trying to contact you.”
