“I know.” My voice is a thread of sound, and I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. It’s been a messy couple of weeks.”
There’s a pause before she sighs. “Braxton, I told you I could only hold the house for so long. The owners were hopeful they could sell before Christmas, and I had an offer on it yesterday. Two, actually. It was my professional responsibility to present those to the owners, and they’ve accepted one.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, but you’re too late. If you had gotten backto me yesterday, you might have had a chance to counter the offer, but now…” I can almost see her shaking her head. “The papers are being drawn up to be signed later today.”
My mouth is dry, despair filling my chest, every word I could say catching in my throat. I was the one who found out about the house potentially being put on the market, but Gracie had been reluctant, unwilling to pin her hopes on it being hers. She was so prepared to be disappointed that she hadn’t even wanted to try. I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering her wide eyes as she walked around the house, envisioning a future—our future—within those walls.
I think I found a home here, Brax. And I’ve never had that before.
Bile surges into my throat, and I throw open the door of my truck, hunching over the curb as my mouth pools with saliva. I spit onto the road, desperately fighting back the urge to heave.
Marjorie is calling my name through the phone, and when I think I’m safe, I sit back up, a cold sweat dampening my skin. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Marjorie,” I rasp.
“If there’s any other houses you’d like to see…” There’s a hesitance in her voice, and I don’t blame her for it.
“I’ll let you know.”
She says goodbye, and I hang up, dropping the phone onto the passenger seat. I rest my wrists against the steering wheel, hanging my head down, trying to work out what the fuck I’m going to tell Gracie.
A throat clears, and I turn to look at my father, his hands tucked into his pockets and his expression neutral as he watches me. I step out of the truck, leaning against it as my heart pumps erratically.
“I fucked up, Dad.”
“Yeah, you have,” he says, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “What the heck’s going on, Brax?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it about Paisley?”
My eyes flare, sick of hearing her name. “No. It’s never been about Paisley. I mean, she said something to me on Thanksgiving, but I told her that the past is in the past. This…It’s all on me. I never should have dropped the ball?—”
He slashes a hand between us. “It’s not about you dropping the ball, Braxton. You went through something traumatic, and you didn’t deal with it.” He props his hands on his hips, shoulders bunched tightly with tension. “You know how this job works. We lean on each other, and we lean on our support systems. You should have been talking to Gracie about it all, giving her the chance to be there for you. She’s your partner, isn’t she?” I open my mouth, but he’s still going. “What if something happened to her? What if the worst thing you could imagine happened to her, and she didn’t say a word to you?”
“It’s different,” I argue. “I chose this career?—”
“Andshechoseyou.” Dad’s staring at me like he doesn’t know me, and that stings. “You think my marriage to your mother has been all sunshine and rainbows? We lean on each other, Braxton. We share our burdens. You’re choosing to cut Gracie out of something important, and then acting like that doesn’t matter.” He huffs out a frustrated breath. “Why didn’t you tell her about the accident?”
“She’s busy?—”
“No.”
He cuts me off so quickly that I glare at him. “She’s stressed?—”
“No.”
I fall quiet, not knowing what he wants from me, and he looks away, his shoulders sagging.
“Braxton, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m figuring it out,” I say defensively. “I went to the counselor, and I’m going back. I’m working through my shit, no matter what anyone says. Gracie…She’ll get past this. She will.Wewill.” If I say the words enough, I might even believe it.
“Christmas is next week,” Dad suddenly says unnecessarily. “You make sure Gracie is here. You get that? You’re not taking that from her as well.”
Pain shoots through my chest as I stare at him. “You’re acting like I did this on purpose.”
He finally looks back at me, his expression one I’ve never seen before. “Didn’t you?”
