I was majorly confused as to why, but I reminded myself that it was none of my business. He was a big boy, and he could take care of himself. He’s been doing it for the past ten years without my help, he could continue to do it that way. Even though the thought of him being with Cherish Sharp made me gag. She was literally the trashiest person I knew, bar none. I often wondered why he married her in the first place, why he would stoop so low. This was Brad we were talking about. He was never one to settle for just anything.
His drive was most of the reason he went into business for himself. I remember the talks we had when we were younger, lying under our willow tree in his backyard, just contemplating what the future held for us. At that time the future seemed bright, like nothing could hold us back from reaching our dreams together. Of course, we were young, dumb, and in love. We thought we’d be able to brave any storm together and make it through unscathed. That had been until his mother, of course.
That’s when everything had changed, and the future we dreamed of was shattered. It still confused me how he didn’t know that it wasn’t my body in that picture. I had been flabbergasted for a long time. Out of all the times we had been together, you’d think he knew my body damn well. However, when it all came out, I believe that’s what hurt me the most. That he’d seen so many women’s bodies that he couldn’t decipher that it wasn’t me.
It wasn’t fair, in a way. Of course, it was my fault taking him back. I should have known that he was going to hurt me again, even if it was out of false pretenses. He still had. Over the years the sting from his rejection has dimmed quite a bit. It was still there, don’t get me wrong, but the hatred I felt for him went away. I couldn’t hate someone that had been tricked, could I? I wanted to. God, did I want to. But it wasn’t fair. We were both so young when that happened. It would be wrong of me to do that to him.
I sighed. Standing up from the table, I made my way to the cooking area. After putting my things into the drainer, I slumped against the counter. I loved this about our kitchen. If you needed privacy without letting the others know something was wrong, you could sulk in here without them noticing. A wall disconnected the dining area from the cooking area. Privacy was something that I really needed right now, and this was the only way I was going to get it.
I lay my head back against the cabinet, taking slow deep breaths. Being around him and thinking about what could have been between us was seriously getting to me. I closed my eyes, causing the tears that had gathered there, to slide quietly down my face. I tried so hard to be strong. However, it seemed that he could still get to me. No matter how guarded I have my heart, he could still penetrate it. It wasn’t fair. He was sitting there like nothing was wrong, like he hadn’t broken my heart all those years ago. In all honesty, none of this was fair. I really wanted my mom to be happy, but at what cost?
My sanity, my heart…or both.
I knew that I couldn’t stay in here forever. That at any moment someone would come in here and catch me sulking. Wiping my eyes, I took a few calming breaths before walking back into the dining area. When I entered, everyone stopped talking and looked at me. I looked down at my shoes, praying their attention would go back to what they were discussing with each other. My mother’s voice caught my attention.
“Do you mind getting dessert, dear?” she asked softly.
Clearing my throat before I took a chance at speaking, I answered her, “Yeah, I’ll go grab it. Does everyone want dessert?”
They all chorused their yesses, but Brad’s next words caught me a little off guard.
“I’ll go help her get everything.”
“That would be lovely, Brad,” she gushed.
Motherfuck! Could he just leave me alone?
I turned on my heel, heading to the fridge. After collecting the dessert, I was about to shut the door when I felt him standing close behind me. I took a few steadying breaths before closing the door and started gathering the plates. From his silence, I knew he was thinking about how to start a conversation with me. Well, the best way would be to admit that he was wrong all those years ago and that he was sorry for everything he put me through. But this was Brad Titan, and he never apologized for anything. Ever.
“Claire,” he mumbled, sadness lacing my name.
I turned to him, waiting for him to say something else. Putting everything down on the counter, I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes at him. He took a few steps closer coming within feet of me. I studied him with my eyes, not really sure what he was getting at. He lifted his hand; I flinched. He lowered his hand with a saddened expression on his face.
“What do you want, Brad?”
He shrugged nervously. “I was just trying to wipe off the mascara that was running down your face.”
I dropped my arms, walking over to the mirror next to the back door. He was right; my mascara had run when a few tears escaped my eyes earlier. It was stupid to think that he had come in here to apologize. That somewhere deep down in his heart it truly killed him for the way he treated me all those years ago. When there was no trace left of my running makeup, I turned away from the mirror to face him.
“There. All gone,” I giggled out.
He frowned, looking down at the floor, shaking his head back and forth. “You don’t have to play with me, Claire. It wasn’t just your makeup; your eyes are puffy. I would say that it was from crying, but don’t take my word for it.”
I chuckled. “You're right. I won’t take your word for it,” I quipped.
I went to grab for the dessert and the plates, but felt Brad’s hand wrap around my wrist before I could. I glared at him, jerking my hand back. That was the third time that he touched me and the third time that he would get punished for it. I wasn’t doing this to be a bitch. Well, mainly it wasn’t. He just needed to get through his thick skull that he revoked the right to touch me all those years ago. If I let him once, it would be easier to give in each time he did it after. That was something that I just couldn’t do.
“Dammit, Claire. I’m just trying to show that I care, shitfire,” he whisper-yelled at me.
That broke the camel’s back. At that point, I saw red at his harsh words. I was going to show him that nothing came from being mean. This would so put him back in his place. He thought I wanted him to care. No, I just wanted him to want to apologize. That was it. Walking up to him, I asked the most random question. According to his puzzled expression he had no freaking idea where I was going with this.
“Brad, I have a question. Do you like scrambled eggs?” I asked, with a secret smile on my face.
His confusion turned into laughter. A laughter that I would soon put a stop to. “Um … Random question, Claire. But yes, I do like scrambled eggs. You asking for future reference? You know … so you’ll know what to cook me in the morning?” he asked raising his eyebrow in question.
I shook my head, pressing my upper body into his. I instantly regretted my decision to get so close to him. I could feel the muscle he had under the T-shirt he was wearing. Damn! Momma like. I inwardly chastised myself for such a thought. His arms wrapped around my waist, hugging me closer to him. Even though it felt absolutely perfect to be pressed up against his hard chest, I had to get back to what I was going to do. With a quick jerk motion, I brought my knee right up in his balls.
I stepped back quickly as he dropped to the ground with a girly scream, holding his groin. Picking up the dessert and plates, I leaned down next to him and snickered.
“Now you see how I scramble eggs, love. The next time you taunt me, you’ll find out how I peel a sausage.” I stood up and back, watching him roll on the floor.
As I passed him, he growled low in his throat, jumping up from the floor. I screamed, running the rest of the way back to the table. My heart was beating a million miles a minute as he chased me. It was kind of fun. I laughed, getting back to the side of the table. Safe territory, there was no way for him to retaliate now. At least not without getting reprimanded by our parents. Punishment was so sweet. Henry looked at me with a knowing smile, and Mom looked at me cocking her head to the side, a disapproving frown marring her face.
Well, what a Debbie Downer. Sheesh!
“What happened?” she asked dryly, looking between the two of us.
“He stubbed his toe.” The lie rolled off my tongue with ease. “That was the girly scream you heard.” I giggled.
Brad glared at me before turning to my mother. “She’s right. Those cabinets are a bitch.”
Ha. Score three for me, zero for the cocky jerk. Damn, it felt good!