Dad narrows his eyes on me—a look that saysshut up and listen. “I didn’t give what your mother said much credence. I was arrogant, believing that it was going to be different for you. You had a ready-made support system, one that understood exactly what you were going through. Now…I’m left wondering if I was wrong.” He blows out a heavy breath, shoulders sagging, and my gut sinks. “I can’t help but think that I did you a disservice by encouraging you to take after me. I was so focused on the shared bond we would have that I just ignored everything else.”
“Dad,” I rasp, my heart aching for him. I don’t ever want him to think that either of us was wrong in choosing this path—not when it has always meant so much to us. And even going through these last few weeks, I don’t regret it.
“This isn’t on you, Dad. No one could have guessedhow that accident was going to go, and the way I’ve been since…It’s on me. Not on anyone else.”
Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s where you’re wrong, Brax. You’ve pulled away from everyone, and you don’t even see it…but we all feel it. Gracie, your mom, me. Even Annie’s noticed.” He tips his head to the side, watching me carefully. “Ryan came to me just before Christmas.”
“What? Why?”
Dad gives me an exasperated look. “You’re not just his crew, Brax. You’re hisfriend. He struggled in the aftermath of the crash, just like you, constantly asking himself ‘what if.’ And now, he’s blaming himself for missing it.”
I don’t want to ask, but I do. “Missing what?”
“The way you’re spiraling. Ryan’s blaming himself, thinking he should’ve seen it sooner. That he should’ve pushed you harder to get help, to talk about it.” I stare at him, mouth parted, devastation creeping through my veins. Dad sees it, and he nods. “The moment you crash and burn?—”
“Jesus, Dad,” I exclaim in shock, because what a fucking analogy to use.
He ignores me, even if the corner of his mouth twitches. “—so does every single person in your circle, because you matter to us. You’re important, and your health—mental, physical, or otherwise—isimportant.” His shoulders tense, and I brace myself. “Now, I’m not saying that you aren’t good at what you do. Monroe sings your praises far and wide, and you give it your all. I know that. I am so glad that little girl had you in her last moments.”
It feels like he just punched me in the chest, and I stumble back a step, my shoulder hitting the shelf behind me. Dad doesn’t move, his hands loose at his sides, just watching me.
When I pull my shit together and feel like I can breatheagain, he keeps talking, “I know, even without being there, that you eased Allison’s pain and fear. You made sure she was okay, and that means more than anything else possibly could. I know her family is grateful for that, even on the darkest day of their lives.” He squeezes his eyes closed as mine start burning, my vision going watery. “But now,” he says, voice croaky, “her death needs to mean something, and it can’t just be a symbol of loss. And it can’t be you losing everything because you haven’t learned how to lean on your support and ask for help.”
A choked noise leaves my throat, and I slump back against the shelf. Everything goes fuzzy as his words claw through my skin, sinking in deep, and then I’m no longer looking at my dad in his shed…but seeing the way Allison smiled before the world turned to fire and chaos.
I cover my face with my hands, trying to stop the despair that’s overflowing, but it’s like Dad’s kicked in the dam I built to keep it all back. Every word is landing like a blow, taking me back to that day and every moment since—everything I’ve done to bury it all down and pretend it didn’t happen.
“Braxton.” Dad’s voice is closer, and then his hands land on my shoulders, his fingers gripping me tightly. “You’re self-destructing before our eyes, and it’s breaking us to know we can’t stop it. Not unless you let us in.” He gives me a little shake, and then his arms are around me, yanking me into his chest, squeezing me until my ribs ache.
“We’ve got you, Braxton,” he whispers above my head. “And you need to lean on us now, because we won’t lose you over this.”
CHAPTER 23
Gracie
Ten days later
The grandfather clock in the grand foyer has always been loud, but right now, each second that passes sounds like a thunderous boom.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
I’ve only been here for fifteen minutes, but the urge to leave is crawling along my skin, my irritation climbing as I watch my mother pick up her delicate tea cup, eyeing me with mild disinterest as she sips.
“I’m surprised you only stayed one night with us.” Her tone is mild, but doesn’t hide the reprimand buried within the words.
“I didn’t want to impose on you and Dad,” I say, ignoring the fact that they have four bedrooms in this house, and not a single one of them actually belongs to me. I shouldn’t have even stayed that first night, but Elyse had been at work when I flew in, and it seemed like the easier option.
Wrong.
My mother’s brow furrows—as much as it can. “Well,it’s beginning to feel like I need to schedule an appointment just to see my own daughter.” My face doesn’t even twitch, my expression smooth and unreadable, but the irony is hysterical. “It’s bad enough that you moved over six hours away. Now you’re back in the city and refusing to visit us? You must think about how that looks, Grace.”
“I’m not back.”
“You know what I mean.” Mom smiles tightly, her fingers clenching the handle of her cup. “I don’t actually remember the last time you visited.” There’s a hint of reproach in her tone, even though she’s never once come to Sterling Creek to see me either. “You shouldn’t be such a stranger.”
I cross one leg over the other, making a concentrated effort not to jiggle my ankle. I shouldn’t have come here, especially with how heartsore I still am, but when she reached out with the invitation, I felt obligated.
“It was the year before last,” I say quietly. “That was the last time you saw me. I flew in for Dad’s birthday party.”
