Otis whines as Brayden’s truck turns around in the driveway to leave. He glances at me with big, sad eyes. He’s already leaning his big body against my legs and now, he rests his head in my lap. I scratch behind his ears and bend down to kiss him on the top of his head. “I’m sorry, Otis. It’s my fault he didn’t stay long. I’ll figure out how to fix things somehow.”
He huffs, almost as if telling me I better figure it out. I glance toward the driveway, but Brayden’s truck is nowhere to be seen now. He was pissed and he seemed so very disappointed in me. He lectured me as if I should know better and startled me a bit when he got in my face. It’s not as if I was actively choosing to mess things up. All I did was react to the situation presented before me.
My knee-jerk reaction sucks, to say the least.
The relief over not being pregnant is long gone. Guilt replaced the relief. I was so focused on myself and needing to get away that not once did I consider the ramifications of my actions on my relationship with Brayden. How selfish can I be?
Pretty damn selfish, as it turns out.
Coming here was supposed to help calm me down. Instead, I lost all faith in Brayden and in myself. My thoughts spiraled out of control until I became certain that he would never put me first. He even stopped trying to contact me while he was gone. What is wrong with me? I ignore him and then damn him when he gives up?
I thought I felt guilt before from panicking over the various possible reactions Brayden might have if we were indeed having a kid? Guilt drowns me now, suffocating me and inducing a hell of a lot of panic. Despite all of this, I don’t want to lose Brayden; I never did. My head hasn’t caught up to my heart yet, and that’s what I keep tripping over. Sighing, I stand and we head inside.
There’s a stupid quilt wall hanging that your eyes naturally land on when you enter my grandma’s house. It’s covered in hearts and in the middle, so big it’s impossible to ignore, it says, “Follow your heart.”
“Yeah, yeah, Grandma. Easier stitched than done.”
How can I fix this? Maybe I should attend the game tonight. A taxi could drop me off, which would either force him into taking me home and spending some time with me, or he’d ignore me altogether and a taxi could take me straight to a bar. But should I bombard him at his work? It’ll show I’m willing to work this out, right? It can’t hurt, I don’t think.
Oh, fuck it. I’ll go and hope for the best.
On that line of thought, I clean up the house and pack my things to leave. I’ve been gone long enough anyway. The quilt shop is calling my name. On top of everything else, it always makes me uneasy to leave it in the hands of someone else. This almost feels ridiculous. Never before in my life have I had to grovel before. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Later, I’m surrounded by Meredith Ramsey, Lizzy Polinski, Sydney Rhett, and Raelynn Woods. I texted Brayden earlier to let him know I was coming, but he probably won’t see it until after the game. Raelynn is here with Jackson and Bree, and it looks like Sydney has her kids here, too. Sylvia’s kids are here, though she isn’t. Maybe Lizzy brought them. Between them and others, the box is stuffed.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Raelynn leans over to whisper in my ear. “Elias said he doubted you’d be here. Jackson has been dying to come to a game, but I am so out of my comfort zone here.”
I smile and glance to her son, who sits in my lap, leaning forward as he gazes down at the action on the ice. “I’m glad I decided to come, too. You have a friend in me anytime.” I’ll give her my number before the night is over with.
She seems uneasy about letting the ladies fawn over Bree, but I’ve assured her they are cool, and she nodded, telling me that EJ told her they would likely do so. I’m not sure why she’s uneasy then. The babies, both Bree and Sydney’s little boy, Andrew, aren’t even the cutest attraction tonight. Not in my opinion, at least.
Jackson has Stella practically stuck to his side. He glances at his mom and me for help, but the little girl isn’t doing anything but talking about the game. He sort of reminds me of Brayden. Except Brayden will stay in a situation, even if he’s uncomfortable. Jackson wants out.
“She’s teaching you about the game, Jackson,” Raelynn eventually says. “You better listen. She knows way more than I do.”
His shoulders slump and Stella smiles at him. He stops sending help me looks to his mom after that. Having them here keeps me from wondering what will happen after the game. How will Brayden react when he sees me? Will he pretend to be happy to put on a show for the others? No, I can’t see him doing that. He’ll likely give me a sour look that will leave the gossip lovers dying to know more.
I sigh.
“Is everything okay?” Raelynn asks.
“Yeah, just thinking. How do you like being a nanny?”
“Honestly?”
I shrug. “You can lie. I don’t mind.”
She laughs. “It doesn’t seem real to have a job with a nice boss, good money, and to live without worrying if I can pay all my bills that month. It’s a huge relief.”
“You’ve had a tough life, huh?”
She nods, her eyes straying to Jackson. “It hasn’t been too bad.”
“How old are you?” I ask.
Raelynn’s shoulders seem to straighten. “Twenty-two. Jackson’s five.” She stares at me, obviously waiting for some sort of response.
I exhale heavily. “Wow. Much respect.”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head and her jaw hits the floor. “What?”
“I still can’t see myself with a kid and I’m older than you. The thought of juggling a baby and my business sounds insane and way more work than I’m prepared to deal with. For you to have him young and him to be such a good kid? You’ve done something right, despite whatever struggles you’ve had to deal with.”
Raelynn still seems stunned. “No one has ever said that to me. They are too focused on the fact that I had him young.”
“People often miss the big picture, including me, so don’t let me fool you.” I smile, even though I’m thinking of my mistake with Brayden. One of my worst fears is spending life alone. Even friends with benefits prevents me from being completely alone. That’s not what I truly want, though. I want Brayden Hayes! I have to figure out how to get back on his good side.
The goal horn blares, scaring the absolute shit out of Jackson, who immediately covers his ears. “Mommy, that’s louder than on TV,” he complains.
“I’m sorry, baby. But look, Mr. Brayden scored.”
We look up at the jumbotron just in time to see a replay of a sniper of a shot and then, the craziest thing of all. Brayden celebrates. What in the world? I thought he didn’t do that. He hasn’t the few times I’ve watched. I lean forward and over a little bit.
“Hey,” I say in the general direction of the women. When they glance over at me, I ask, “When did he start celebrating?”
“He did it once on the road trip and has ever since,” Meredith answers. “Weird, right? Maybe it’s because he’s in love,” she teases with a grin.
“Yeah, maybe,” I murmur. Hm. I doubt it. We weren’t talking and he’s currently pissed at me. Maybe it’s a rage-fueled distraction that’s causing him to relax enough to let loose? I don’t know. It’s nice to see his smile on the jumbotron, though. My eyes stay trained on Brayden throughout the rest of the game, where they seem to lose their speed and leave their net weak. Maybe I’ll catch other ways he’s changed, but he still looks pissy except for when he scored the lone Rebel goal. It’s not enough when the opposition scores two.
So, here I am, waiting and waiting for him to show up. He has to show up, right? I pull up my message to him, making sure I included that I was stranded if he didn’t give me a ride home. Yes, I hoped I could guilt him into it.
Sylvia’s husband, Scott, shows up. He doesn’t seem to be in too great of a mood, but he showers his daughters with a kiss each, thanks Lizzy for bringing them, and leaves in a hurry. Meredith and Lizzy’s husbands, Noah and Marc, show up. They take the hands of their wives, seemingly in no rush to leave, just yet. Where is Brayden?
Then, EJ, Ian, and Zane show up. EJ and Zane look surprised to see me.
“What are you doing here?” Zane asks while EJ asks nearly the same question.
“Waiting for Brayden.” Why else would I be at a game?
EJ steps closer to me and lowers his voice. “Brayden’s not coming up here, Deanna. He was just on his way out when we were on our way up. Did he know you were coming?”
My shoulders slump. “Yeah, I texted him. Thanks, EJ. I should go. I need to catch a cab home.”
Zane, who must’ve been eavesdropping, says, “I can take you, Deanna. I don’t mind.”
“No, that’s okay.” That has bad idea written all over it. Zane is a good guy, I know, but there’s no need for him to take me home. I stand, say goodbye to the women, and head out. I sigh when Zane catches up to me. “Zane,” I start.
“I can at least walk you out if you won’t let me give you a ride home. And you should let me. Why pay a cab when I can take you for free?”
Good point, but not good enough.
“So, how are things going?” he asks when I don’t respond.
I glance over to see that he seems genuinely curious. “Work is fine, but otherwise? Not great. But you know me; I always find a way to screw something up.”
“That’s not true,” he immediately says.
“Oh, yeah? I was oblivious to how you felt, wasn’t I? I had no problem walking away and being blunt about it.”
He frowns, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You may have a point.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He laughs. “I’m sure things will work out. Brayden doesn’t give up easily.”
“Yet I’m taking a cab home.” Granted, I’m the one who fucked up, but still.
“Oh, come on.” Zane throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. “Look at the bright side.”
“What bright side?” I interrupt incredulously before he can say so. How is there possibly a bright side to this? I look down at my phone, hoping for a text from Brayden. At this point, I’ll even take a big fat fuck you. Just some kind of acknowledgment.
“The bad stuff only makes you stronger in the end,” he says, pushing open the door for us to step outside.
I roll my eyes and put my hand on his side to push him away, intending to tell him that’s a crock of shit. Before I can do so, Zane’s arm drops and he stops walking. I glance up to see Brayden fifteen feet ahead of us, looking as pissed off as ever.
“Well, there’s your ride,” Zane says. He turns and leaves me there, which irritates me.
“What the fuck are you doing with him?” Brayden demands once I get within two feet of him.
“He was walking me out since you decided not to give me a ride home. That was very nice of you, by the way.”
He sneers almost. “I just saw your text, Deanna. That’s why I’m coming back into the building. Why isn’t Zane giving you a ride home?”
“Because I told him I’d rather take a cab.”
He snorts like he doesn’t believe me. “Well, looks like I’m stuck with you now, so let’s go.”
Oh, hell no. “Do you want to take me home?”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice. Let’s go.” He turns and walks away without giving me a chance to respond or to see if I’ll follow along. Fine, he can walk away by himself.
He’s pissed. He has a right to be. But if he doesn’t want to deal with me, I won’t make him. Forcing myself on him wasn’t my best idea; it’s probably made things worse. I turn and stalk off toward the front of the arena, where I know there will be a line of taxis waiting to take people home, and if there’s not one waiting, they’ll pick me up there. I double-checked that particular fact before I decided to come without a car.
I’m halfway through one of the lots, only one more to go, when I hear running footsteps. My body tenses. When I glance over my shoulder, I nearly collapse in relief to find Brayden and not some crazed man. Although, to see the look on his face, he may be a crazed man.
“What are you doing now?” he demands to know.
“You didn’t want to take me home, so I’m going with my backup plan. You know, there’s these things called taxis. What are you doing?”
“You’re trying my patience, Deanna.” A hard exhale comes out of his nose, his lips pressed flat together.
“Well, you’re wearin’ on mine!” I argue back.
He grabs my hand and pulls me back to his truck. I let him because I don’t see the point in fighting with him anymore. It’s apparent five minutes into the ride that he’s not going to say a word to me.
“Why are you pissed that Zane walked me out?”
He throws me a look that I can’t quite distinguish in the darkness of the truck. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. He was only being nice. I mean, I told him I could walk out myself and he came anyway, but it was still a nice gesture.”
Brayden scoffs. “Nice. Z’s always nice to you. I don’t trust that fucker farther than I could throw him. Feelings don’t magically go away and I’m almost certain if you gave him a chance, he’d be with you in a heartbeat. He’s probably happy about the fact we’re having issues.”
“Why would you say that?” Surely, he wouldn’t be. Zane didn’t seem that way with me.
“Because aside from him having his arm around you for no reason just a few minutes ago—”
“You don’t know why his arm was there,” I interrupt and receive the coldest glare in history.
“There is no reason for him to ever touch you unless you’re dying or he’s shaking your hand,” he quickly informs me. “When we were on the trip, I decided to ask him if you ever ignored him. He grinned and was sure to tell me you did and that it was because you didn’t want to talk to him or because you were with someone else.”
Ouch. Way to hit low, Zane. I try to gather my thoughts and figure out how to respond. “So, what? Now, you’re pissed at me because I didn’t immediately push him away?”
“No, you were just oblivious as usual.”
How much shit do I take from him because I hurt him before I’m allowed to get pissed at him taking it out on me? There should be some sort of balance. What he’s saying isn’t helping and it’s not making me like him any more right now. I take a deep breath to soothe the irritations. “I came tonight because I want to fix things with you, not to make things worse. I most certainly didn’t come for Zane to be all we talked about.”
Brayden doesn’t respond. I don’t know if he plans to, if he’s thinking about things, or if he’s ignoring me. A sigh escapes me when he pulls into my driveway. I yank on the door handle, but Brayden’s hand flies over to grab my knee before I can slide out. “I don’t want to deal with this tonight.”
“Okay.” Feeling his fingers glide over my jeans as I move away and hop out of the truck is almost too much. It’s almost as if he was touching bare skin. A sense of hopelessness begins to fill my soul. Getting back into Brayden’s good graces will be harder than I thought. I glance over my shoulder once I push open my door just a few inches and he starts to back up.
Hard or not, I’m not giving up.