“I made contact with the Healey,” Brax says, and my brows shoot up. “They haven’t heard from Laurel since their son died. Not interested in finding her, either.”
“So, Marcus was telling the truth?”
“It appears that way, yes,” Brax answers.
“Do you think she’s alive?”
“I do.”
He doesn’t tell me why he thinks that.
“If Marcus is right and someone influenced her decision to lie, I’d say that it’s possible she’s doing her best to stay under the radar and hidden from whoever motivated her,” Brax says.
I let out a slow breath, my eyes flicking over to Erin. Roman’s watching her with wide eyes and a grin while she talks to him.
I can only assume it’s book related.
“Ever since the accident, I’ve been desperate to find answers. I think I convinced myself I needed them to be able to move on from the guilt. That if I could prove it wasn’t my fault, I could close that chapter of my life. Every time I think about closing the door without those answers, it’s like I’m insulting Jack’s memory.”
The words that have been haunting my thoughts tumble from my lips, and Brax listens, giving me the space the same way Erin did.
“But I get it now. I’ve been looking at this all wrong. The answers won’t take it away. I think, deep down, I’ll always hold guilt about what I didn’t do that day. Maybe, with time, it’ll get better. But finding the truth will help me let go of the ownership I feel over Elliot’s choices. I don’t know why he hurt Jack or what he was caught up in, but I don’t need to take responsibility for Elliot’s actions just because he’s not here to own them. That doesn’t mean I’m disrespecting Jack’s memory.”
Brax hums. “Seems like all that therapy is paying off.”
“I can’t let what happened taint the valuable things in my life. Not anymore.”
“I’m proud of you,” Brax says. “I know better than anyone how hard this has been for you. Wanting to move on doesn’t mean you don’t care. Waves of guilt don’t mean you’re backsliding. There will be days where it’s all you think about and weeks where you barely do. Then there will be days like today when you miss the ones who aren’t here and wonder if this is how it’ll always be. But then there’s a shift. The pain gets lighter and more manageable,” he says.
His words wash over me.
The chaos in my mind slows, my limbs grow lighter, and my heart aches as I realize just how much I’ve missed being around people who care.
“That’s normal,” he continues. “It doesn’t mean you’re spiraling or undoing the progress you’ve made. It’s just learning to live with the past in a different way. I’m glad you’ve stopped punishing yourself. You never needed to. You just had to see it to believe it, and now you have.”
His eyes flick to Erin, then back to me. “Even if you did get a little inspirational nudge,” he adds with a knowing grin.
I dip my chin, his words settling in. “Thanks, Brax.”
I look back at Erin, who rises the way a meerkat does when the servers walk over with ice cream.
And for the first time in a long time, the tiniest spark of peace ignites. Maybe Brax is right. It’s not about finding the answers—it’s about letting go of what I can’t control and trusting that I’ll be okay.
Erin’s breathcatches as she takes in the rows of books. Her face lights up, and her whole demeanor shifts, showing me just how on point of an idea this is.
Her eyes are the size of saucers.
“We’re the only ones here?”
“Yep,” I say. “We’ve got the place to ourselves for the next hour. Being a hockey player has some cool advantages, you know.”
She grins and darts for the nearest shelf, her finger skimming over the spines of countless romance novels.
“Not so fast, Bookworm. There are rules.”
“Rules?” She pouts, and fuck if she isn’t the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I ball my hands into fists to keep from touching her.
“You get five minutes to browse and three minutes to grab as many books as you can. Rules say no baskets or help. Whatever you’re still holding when the time’s up, you get to keep. You drop it, you lose it.”
