Conflagration

by Tessa Teevan

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “That you look as much like shit as my sister does.”

  “You’ve seen her? Is she in Atlanta? Tell me, Alyssa. I can’t fucking sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t do anything without her there. I need to see her. To talk to her. I know I fucked up. I need to fix it and I can’t do that if she won’t answer my calls or see me.” There’s a hint of desperation in my voice, but right now, I don’t care. I’d do anything at this point.

  “I’m sorry, Branson. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you where she is. She said she needed to be alone. I’m probably going against some sister code here, but she’s a wreck, and that’s a good sign.”

  I’m taken aback, unsure how this could possibly be good. “How do you figure?”

  “When she left Ben, it was like she got her life back. I’d never seen her happier as she was driving away. That is until I saw her with you. When she left here though? She could barely keep it together because she was in pain over the idea of losing you. Give it time, and don’t give up. I have faith in you, too.”

  Even though I feel defeated, hating that I’ve done this to her—to us—her words give me some semblance of hope.

  Finishing my coffee, I stand. “Thanks, Alyssa. If you talk to her, tell her I love her.”

  “And that you’re sorry?” she asks.

  “No. That she needs to hear directly from me.”

  She gives me a small nod. “I understand.”

  Just as I’m about to walk out, she calls my name.

  “She loves you, too, you know. Hold on to that.”

  I sure as hell hope she’s right.

  TEN. FUCKING. Days.

  I’m a wreck. It’s been ten damn days since I left Alyssa’s, and I’m going out of my mind. The first week, I threw myself into my work, pretending with Dad and my family that Ariana was back in Atlanta on family business. It seemed to appease them, and no one batted an eye until Sunday brunch. Mom started hounding me about wedding dates, and in the end, I had to leave the room, pretend to call Ariana, and then pick a date and hope to God I had her back by then.

  The next day, I called in sick.

  Apparently this thing called heartbreak can really fuck with your system, because three days later? I’m still sick and can barely move from my spot on the couch. I spend my days drowning in the bottle, watching South Park, wishing she were here with me.

  And no matter how drunk I get, I never forget to call. Every hour, on the hour. I set my alarm so I never miss one. I’m a mess, and my text messages are probably half incoherent, but I don’t even care. It’s all I can do, and it’s not enough. For the first time in my life, I’m powerless. I’m alone. I’m fucking empty.

  Every night, she plagues my thoughts and I ache for her. All I want is to see her, feel her, and be near her. All I want is her. Without Ariana in my life, I can’t function. I don’t want to.

  The doorbell rings, and I groan, almost surprised that it took this long for someone to send out a search party. I mute the TV and ignore the bell, hoping that the silence will make them go away. It does the opposite. Whatever asshole is on the other side is holding down the bell, causing my head to throb.

  I push myself up and shuffle down the hall, growling when I open the door. “What the fuck do you want?”

  Shane pushes past me then closes the door behind him. “Jesus Christ, Branson. Your dad said you were sick. He didn’t say you were medicating with—what is that, scotch? You smell like a fucking distillery.”

  “Yeah, well, what’s it to you?”

  He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on my shoulders, guiding me to the kitchen, where he pushes me down onto a stool. I watch as he makes coffee before he comes to sit across from me.

  “I’ve been trying to call you for ten fucking days, asshole. If it weren’t for Alyssa, I’d have no idea why the hell you’re avoiding me. Which, by the way, good fucking going.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Alyssa doesn’t know the whole story.”

  He gets up and pours us each a cup of coffee before sitting back down. “I have all day. Spell it out for me.”

  And I do just that. I try to ignore his scowls and the way he shakes his head, and even as I repeat the things I said out loud, even I have to admit that I deserve her leaving.

  “If you would’ve just called me back that day, all of this could have been avoided,” he says with a sigh.

  “What the hell does that mean? I thought you were calling to warn me. After all, you tried to tell me before why they broke up.”

  “I was calling to warn you, Branson. I wasn’t the one overseeing the acquisition of his company and had no idea about it until he came storming into my office, demanding to see you. According to Alyssa, their father found out you’re a Wellington, and those two shitheads decided you and Ariana planned this take-over together. According to Alyssa, she knew nothing about it.”

  “What?” I ask even though my heart’s falling.

  “Ariana didn’t leave him because he didn’t have any money. She left because she overheard him saying he didn’t love her. That all he wanted was a trophy wife.”

  “Fuuuuuck,” I breathe out, burying my head in my hands. “What the fuck have I done?”

  I knew it all along. Deep down, I knew that Megan and Cunningham were lying sacks of shit, yet I still let them plant those seeds. My own trust issues helped them grow until I lashed out at the only woman I’ve ever been able to trust. The only woman I’ve ever loved.

  “Dude, I get it. You went through that with Megan and you didn’t want it to happen again. Only this time, you allowed yourself to fall in love with Ariana. You finally put a woman above the job, and at the first sign of trouble, you put your walls back up and pushed her away. And you fucked up. Now my question is: what are you going to about it?”

  I look up at him. “What can I do? I compared her to Megan. I… Fuck. I made her believe this whole thing was fake in order to keep Dad happy and become CEO. There’s no way in hell she’ll ever talk to me again, let alone forgive me. Fuck, I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Have I learned nothing from her or my time with her? Getting up from the stool, I head into my bedroom to the spot on my dresser where my wallet is before going back out to the kitchen.

  Shane watches as I pull out the ring and the two notes from her. “What are those?”

  “This is the kick in the ass I need to win my woman back,” I tell him, ignoring the confused look on his face.

  Re-reading the note Ariana left me all those months ago in Atlanta, I know what I have to do. If I don’t want her to give up on me, then I can’t give up on myself. She was right. Life is messy. Love? It’s even more so. We’re going to fight, and we’re going to have problems. But no matter what, I’m going to love her. I’m going to trust her. And if I have my way, I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing both those things. No matter what it takes.

  COMING TO the Smoky Mountains is probably the most therapeutic thing I could’ve done. I’ve been here for ten days, and it’s done wonders for me. I feel refreshed even though I’ve done little more than lounge on the deck or soak in the hot tub. Something about the fresh air soothes me, and as I sit here watching the sunset with a hot mug of tea, it’s easy for me to shut off my mind. You’d think the silence would be deafening, but it’s the opposite. As I lie back on the lounge chair, I hear the crickets chirping and enjoy the sounds of nature that are usually drowned out by the roar of the city. For a short while, I’ve shut down, and it’s been incredible.

  That doesn’t mean that Branson’s been far from my mind. The first night here, it felt wrong, and I almost packed up and left. I forced myself to stay, however, and I’m glad I did. Anywhere I go, he’ll be with me, and thus far, he has been. Everything I do causes me to think of him. It’s conflictin
g. Being here feels so right, yet it feels all too wrong.

  Just as I’m about to doze off, the sound of my phone ringing wakes me. My heart falters when I see that it’s Alyssa. I don’t know why I’m hoping that it’s Branson considering I haven’t answered a single one of his phone calls—which still come in every hour on the hour. Even though I never answer, the constant calls warm my heart, making me still feel close to him even though we’re so far apart.

  I’ve avoided my sister’s phone calls—hell, any phone calls, actually—and decide that it’s time I finally answer.

  “Hey, Alyssa,” I say sleepily.

  “It’s about damn time you answer your phone,” she admonishes. “I don’t know where you are, and you haven’t called me since you first settled.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… It’s been nice disconnecting from everything, from everyone. It’s been really good for me.”

  She sighs. “Does that mean you still haven’t talked to him?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “Well, if you’d have answered your phone any time in the last week, I could’ve told you I had a visitor,” she informs me, cutting straight to the chase.

  “Oh?” I ask even though I know who it was.

  “He looked awful, Ari. I think this is really taking a toll on him.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have been so quick to rush to judgment,” I snap, immediately feeling bad. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s not your fault.”

  “I’m just saying. Instead of running, fight for him. Hear him out. Get everything out in the open.”

  “I miss him,” I whisper, finally allowing myself to admit it out loud.

  “Honey, he misses you, too. Don’t you think you’ve avoided this long enough? Haven’t you found yourself yet?”

  I laugh at her teasing tone then pause for a moment as I ponder over her question. “I think I found myself on that highway a couple of months ago.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I sigh, finally voicing the conclusion I’ve come to. “I’ve had nothing to do but think, and it’s given me time to put things into perspective. With our parents, who was I? I was the dutiful daughter, went the school they wanted me to go to, chose the major they wanted me to pick and the job given to me. With Benjamin, I did the same thing. Whatever he wanted. And when I left Atlanta, it was because, for the first time, I needed to discover who I was without someone dictating it. I’ve realized I didn’t need be alone to do that. I just needed to find the right person. And I did. While I was with Branson, I discovered who I was because he drew that woman out of me. Sometimes, I think Branson knows me better than I know myself.”

  She sighs. “Oh, Ari. You’ve always been that woman. She was just buried way too deep. He was able to break through all the bullshit everyone else piled on top of you.”

  I sniff, wishing I’d come to these conclusions days ago. “I know. And the first time we had a fight? What did I do? I reverted back to my old self and just took it. I should’ve yelled at him. I should’ve screamed. Instead, I just accepted it and left. I’ve had time to realize that it was wrong. This whole time, I’ve been expecting him to put his past completely behind him when I haven’t done the same. We’re both works in progress, and it just became to be too much.”

  “And now?”

  “And now…I have a fiancé to get back.”

  Alyssa whoops and cheers. “Yes! It’s about damn time!”

  We say our goodbyes, and as I stare out at the Smoky Mountains, I know it’s time. Everything I said to Alyssa is the truth. I didn’t need to be alone to discover myself. I just needed to realize I already did that, and I only want to continue to do so with Branson.

  Glancing at my phone, I see that I have twenty-one minutes until it’s time for another phone call. And this time? I’m going to answer.

  MY PHONE has not rung once since I got off the phone with Alyssa. The first missed call, I shrugged it off. The second…a feeling of dread settled in my belly. By midnight, four calls and four text messages were missing and I started to mentally panic. I tried to force myself into bed, yet sleep seemed to be fruitless. It wasn’t until I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open that I finally dozed off, but even in my sleep, I was plagued with thoughts of him.

  Tired of tossing and turning, I get up and make myself tea, settling in on the deck to enjoy my morning routine of watching the sunset. This morning, however, it’s hard to enjoy the way the sun brings all the colors of the trees to life. I’m too preoccupied thinking of Branson.

  What do the missed calls mean? Has he given up? Is he done? Of course as soon as I decide to pick up the phone, the calls stop. My stomach roils, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. As I go inside to find something to combat my nausea, I catch a look at the date on my phone. Pulling up the app that tracks my period, I see the big, glaring “five days late” staring back at me. As I place the phone back on the counter, panic and excitement start swirling in my mind simultaneously, but I push the feelings back. There’s no way I’m pregnant. Aside from the two times early on, we’ve been protected. It’s probably just the stress of everything.

  Right? At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

  A twinge of disappointment pricks at my heart. I want this. I want Branson. I want to be his wife. The mother of his children. I just hope I haven’t waited too long. We can get through this. I know we can.

  My phone rings, startling me. I stare at it suspiciously. On the fourth ring, I lurch forward and grab it, my heart beating wildly when I see Branson’s name on the screen.

  “Hello?” I say cautiously, almost breathless. Silence greets me, and I pull the phone back to see if the call disconnected. It didn’t. “Branson?

  “Baby?” His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down my spine.

  How have I gone this long without hearing his voice? Feeling his touch? This moment solidifies my feelings for him. I love him, and no matter how hard he tries to push me away, I won’t allow it. As soon as I’m back in his arms, I’m holding on as tight as I can and I’ll never let go.

  “Yeah,” I choke out, tears filling my eyes. God, I’ve missed him.

  “Fuck, baby, I didn’t think you’d ever answer.”

  “You stopped calling.”

  He sighs, and I can just imagine him running a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to sleep since you’ve been gone, and well, last night, it finally hit me and I crashed.”

  “I thought… I thought you were done.”

  “No!” he exclaims. “Fuck no. I’ll never be done.” Relief washes over me, and it’s all I can do not to throw my stuff together and run out to my car to go to him. “Baby, where are you? I need to see you. We need to talk. I can’t do this over the phone.”

  The feeling of relief is replaced by dread. What does he mean by do this? Suddenly, I’m not sure I want to do this. At least not just yet.

  “I’ll be home tomorrow. We can talk then.”

  Before I can stop myself, I hang up the phone and turn it off so he can’t call back, because even though he just said he’ll never be done, the implications of whatever it is he needs to say in person scares the hell out of me.

  So much for finding my strength. I’m still such a coward, but if it means prolonging losing him, then fine. I’ll be a coward.

  ALL BREATH leaves my body the moment I hear her sweet, hesitant voice on the other end of the phone. This was just a formality. I didn’t actually expect her to answer, and then she did.

  And all too soon, she is rushing off the phone, hanging up before I even have a chance to tell her that I love her. I could wallow in self-pity, go back to the bottle, or just give up. Instead, it gives me the drive I need. For ten days, I let her be alone. That ends now.

  DETERMINING ARIANA’S location took a little longer than I’d expected, and after the three-hour drive, it’s nearly dusk when I pull up to the small log cabin in
the Smoky Mountains. Her green Mustang sits in the driveway, and I know I’m in the right place. Part of me is pissed that she came here without me, yet it gives me hope that, even if she wasn’t with me, this setting made her feel close to me. To us.

  With a deep breath, I exit the car and knock on the door. My knocks go unanswered. Ever the impatient man, I twist the knob, groaning when it turns and opens. I’ll scold her another time for that. Right now, I’m a starving man and I need her to satisfy my hunger.

  I look for her, but she’s nowhere to be found. The last place I check is the back deck, and that’s where I see her. After sliding the door open, I step out onto it. She’s lying in a lounge chair, fast asleep with a paperback next to her. My heart skips a beat as I study her.

  How could I have let this woman go?

  Moving closer, I slip off my shoes and lower myself on the chair until we’re in the spooning position, my arm coming around her waist. As much as I want to wake her, to see her beautiful eyes, to finally talk this out, I revel in this moment, vowing to never go another day without her wrapped up in my arms. This feels right. This feels like home. I’m never letting this go again. This is the only thing I want—the only thing I need—in my life. Everything else is a bonus, and it took losing her to realize that. As I hold her, I vow to never let it happen again.

  “Branson,” I hear, her warm breath on my skin.

  For a split second, I think I’m dreaming. Then I feel soft lips brushing mine and a body pressing up against me. As I slowly open my eyes, I see that Ariana’s awake and studying me.

  “Hey, baby,” I whisper, my voice gravelly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You said you were coming home tomorrow. I couldn’t wait that long,” I answer honestly, and a small smile crosses her face, giving me hope.

  “Do I even want to ask how you found me?”

  Shaking my head, I press my forehead to hers. “Probably not. Just know—I’ll always find you.”