Chapter Twenty-Six
Brady
It's been a week since Amanda left me standing in my driveway as she raced off into the night. I know exactly where she is. Have since she left. But I've wanted to respect her request for some time and space, so I haven't tried to contact her.
But it's killing me. It's flat out killing me.
After finding out what Tiffany had done, I talked to Kendrick. I want to stick it to her and really hurt her for pulling a stunt like that. But my hands are tied on that front too. My father's estate guarantees her a monthly stipend in perpetuity. He said he'd look into any potential legal challenges to the estate, but to not get my hopes up.
I sigh and take a long drink of my beer. I'm sitting on the back deck sulking. Since Nicholas is off at an overnight camp, I'm alone in the house and figure I might as well drink myself blind.
“Brooding doesn't suit you.”
I turn and give Miss Delia a half smile. She sets a fresh beer down on the table for me and puts the empties in the trash bag she's carrying.
“Brooding is about all I have at the moment.”
“That doesn't sound like the Brady Keating I know,” she says. “The Brady Keating I know is a man of action. He wouldn't take getting kicked in the sensitive bits and lay down. He'd stand up and fight.”
My grin is rueful. “Unfortunately, I have nothing to fight with,” I say. “I can't do anything to punish Tiffany for torpedoing my relationship. And I can't contact Amanda because she asked for some space and time to sort things out.”
She nods. “Sometimes a woman who says she wants time and space is really asking for you to fight for her,” she says. “To show her that she matters enough for you to humble yourself before her.”
“I don't know that this is one of those situations.”
“You don't know that it's not.”
I take a long pull of my beer and set the bottle back down on the table.
“No, she made it pretty clear that she wanted me to stay away from her for a while.”
Miss Delia shrugs. “Tiffany did something terrible, no question about it,” she says. “But I would suggest that you have an opportunity to show Amanda that you're not going to take that laying down and that she means the world to you.”
“And how am I going to do that when she won't talk to me?”
“Have you tried calling her?”
I open my mouth to reply, but then close it again. I shake my head.
“No, I haven't,” I admit. “Because she asked me not to.”
“Maybe she was actually hoping that you would step up and fight, Brady.”
I sigh and shake my head. “Maybe. I just don't know,” I say. “This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this.”
“What do you mean?”
I look at Miss Delia and decide to lay it all out. I don't know why, but I feel compelled to be honest with her. So, I tell her everything about my business deal with Amanda and how that – changed. When I'm done talking, she laughs heartily.
“Glad you find some humor in it.”
“I do,” she says. “I find it hilarious, actually.”
I take a drink of my beer, watching her until her laughter finally fades. “And what do you find hilarious?”
“Because this was never about some sham marriage with you, Brady,” she says. “The way you talked about her, from the very first time I heard her name come out of your mouth, I knew that there was something different about her. Something special. And maybe you didn't realize it at the time, but you were falling for her long before you ever said those words to her.”
“I don't know about that –”
“I do,” she says. “I've known you your entire life. I've seen you go through women like men go through clean underwear. And never once, did I ever hear you talk about any of them the way you talked about her. And that first night I met her? I could see that she was as in love with you as you were with her. The problem was, you two were just too scared to acknowledge it.”
I sigh and take another drink. I think back over the months and try to recall the exact point I knew I was in love with Amanda and couldn't do it. I don't know when it was. Everything just felt so natural with her from day one. Maybe Miss Delia was right.
But then, I guess it doesn't matter now – now that Tiffany had blown everything up.
The doorbell rings and Miss Delia looks at me, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I'm waiting for a package, so I'll get that, but call her, Brady,” she says. “The odds are, she's sitting there waiting for you to reach out. Don't let your pride prevent you from marrying that girl – she's the best thing that's ever happened to you and Nicholas.”
The doorbell rings again and she gives me a smile. She turns and walks away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I hear murmured voices inside, but don't pay attention to them. Instead, I take a long pull from my beer and stare out at the backyard, trying to organize my thoughts and feelings. Trying to work up the nerve to call Amanda.
“Doing a little day-drinking today, huh?”
My heart falls into my boots at the sound of Amanda's voice. I turn to her, my mind and body awash in a mix of emotions. She gives me a small smile and then takes the seat across from me at the table. I want to reach out and take her hand, want to feel the reassuring warmth of her skin on mine. But, I don't do any of that. Instead, I wrap both of my hands around my bottle to keep them occupied.
I notice that she's not wearing the engagement ring and my heart sinks even further than before. That can't be a good sign.
“How are you?” I ask hesitantly.
She shrugs. “I'm doing – okay,” she says. “Good, actually.”
I nod. “I'm glad to hear that, darl – Amanda.”
“We're still going to have to work on that,” she says, giving me the first genuine smile I've seen from her in what feels like a million years.
“We?” I ask. “There's still a we?”
Amanda's smile falters slightly, but she recovers it quickly and nods. “There is,” she says. “There's still a we if you'll have me.”
I reach across the table and take her hand, pulling it to my lips and kissing her knuckles softly. “Of course, I will,” I say. “I've been going crazy without you.”
“And I've been going crazy without you, Brady.”
I hold on to her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What changed?”
She grabs my beer bottle and drains the last of it. “Well, after brooding for a week, I got sick and tired of feeling sorry for myself, so I decided to do something about it.”
“And that was?”
“I tracked down one Angie Willows,” she said. “I had a very long, interesting conversation with her over coffee one day.”
The knot in my stomach tightens a bit at the mention of Angie's name. “And?”
“And, it turns out that Tiffany was blackmailing her,” she says. “Angie refused to tell me what Tiffany had on her, but she forced her to run into you that day and told her that she had to kiss you because she was taking pictures. Seems like she was relying on fear to keep Angie in line. She's got a husband and a new kid to think about.”
“Fear of what?”
She shakes her head. “I don't know.”
“Then why did she talk to you and admit everything?”
Amanda shrugs. “She honestly felt bad about doing that to you,” she says. “And she told me that she talked things out with her husband – discussed whatever leverage Tiffany has on her – and they're working to resolve that on her end so nobody can ever use it against her again.”
I nod and feel better than I have in a week.
“So – are we okay?” I ask tentatively.
She smiles. “Yeah,” she says. “We're good. I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Brady. Please forgive me.”
I stand up and pull her into a tight embrace. It feels wonderful to have Amanda in my arms again – it feels right and perfect.
And for the first time in my life, I feel complete.