Brax is here, somewhere in the house, but he’s built an invisible wall between all of us, except Roman.
Physically, he’s present, but emotionally, he’s…lost. He’s holding himself together by a thread. It’s clear just by the way he moves. The way he avoids looking anyone in the eye for too long. The way he keeps his distance from Erin and me.
He’s hurting, and I get it. I wouldn’t want to look at me, either.
I brought this darkness into his life. I asked him for help with the drugs, even though I made peace with what I did for Elliot a long time ago. Now all that’s left is the ache of knowing the truth.
It has me thinking back to Marcus’s words. And while it does hurt, knowing that Elliot was innocent and that his only fault was hurting Jack, it brings me some peace.
However, it’s hard watching Brax struggle. I know the weight of this is destroying him, but I know I can’t save him from that. I can’t give him the closure he needs.
What I can do is show up for him, though, even if he pushes me away. I can be there for him on the days he can’t be there for himself.
Erin and I both will.
“Chase?”
I turn and find her standing in the doorway behind me, holding a black trash bag full of empty bottles and paper plates.
Her eyes are filled with vulnerability as I walk to her.
“I know you probably said what you did earlier for Roman’s sake,” she says, “but if you’re not ready to forgive Brodie… That’s okay. No one expects you to be.”
“There were just so many lies. I hate that part of me still misses him. I hate that grief and fury are one and the same right now.”
“I know,” she breathes, stepping closer, her hand brushing mine. “You showed up, Chase, for the people who are still here. That counts.”
The words hit hard. Too hard. Like she reaches inside and pulls a piece of me I’ve been holding together free.”
“Did you mean it?” I ask. “When you told Roman you forgive Brodie?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” she says quietly.
I take her hand and kiss her knuckles.
“Can I be honest with you?” she whispers.“Always.”
“Today… I wished Bella had never met Brodie.” Her voice falters. “I wished she had run into you at Hendrick’s Bar. That you could have been her person.”
A tear slips down her cheek as I take her in—the girl with the biggest damn heart on the planet.
“I already told you,” I say, cupping her cheek. “You’re mine. Make as many wishes as you want. I’ll never love anyone but you.”
Her lips tremble slightly. “I’ll never love anyone but you either, Chase.”
I pull her into my chest. She fits there the way she always has—and always will.
“We’ll get through this,” I whisper into Erin’s hair. “One day at a time.”
Her grip tightens on me, and an ache settles in my bones. So does uncertainty. Because I know now that grief doesn’t ever leave. It shifts and morphs into a variety of things, but it doesn’t vanish. You learn to live with it. To move through it.
When I look at Erin, I know I’m not doing this alone. Not anymore.
“One day at a time,” she echoes in a murmur, voice barely a whisper.
I lean back just enough to see her face, among the tears that glisten. There’s strength there and hope.
Always hope.
