Ask Me Why

by Rae, Harloe

  I shrug. “Mostly. I have certain triggers.”

  “Like riding shotgun?” he asks.

  “Driving in general.” I feel my lips wobble, recalling that dreadful conversation at Thicket.

  Brance nods. “That explains a lot.”

  “The triggers are a rolodex, spin the dial and see what pops up. Trauma is fucking hilarious like that. I’m a mess.” I trace a liquid ring on the table.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “And you’re just trying to be nice.”

  He barks out a laugh. “We both know that’s not true. Not sure I’ve tried to spare anyone’s feelings other than Ollie.”

  “Yeah, that was pushing it.” A quiet giggle escapes me.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m really fucking sorry.”

  “Thanks. It’s super tough, but that’s my life.”

  “You survived,” he murmurs.

  I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. “Barely.”

  Brance stretches an arm out along the back of his seat. The massive watch on his wrist gleams and catches my attention. There’s a reflection from the overhead light, the possibility of blinding someone at any given moment is very likely. I follow the glowing circle while our silence stretches. My mind is a soggy sponge. I’m not sure where to go from this point.

  From within my murky sludge, a flicker of sunshine breaks through and rises to the surface. The illumination spreads, sparks igniting with a simple strike of flint. The heat cocoons around me, but the emptiness remains.

  I’m flayed open, exposing the most vulnerable parts. It only seems fair to return the favor, asking him for a piece of his why. I glance up at Brance from under my lashes. “Will you tell me about Ollie’s mom?”

  Brance

  Lesson

  Braelyn’s question is a cheap shot straight to the nuts. But I’ve been expecting it all the same. I don’t blame her. She just finished ripping her wounds open. The least I can do is spill a few guts of my own. I won’t let her bleed all over the floor alone.

  There’s already pressure building in my skull. I’d rather sleep on a bed of nails than talk about Veronica. She’s been out of my life for over five years. If I had my way, her name would be torn apart and diluted until unrecognizable. But that bitch always finds a way to haunt me.

  I press on my temple, but the pounding gets worse. “For the record, this is my least favorite topic to discuss. And that includes my mother, which is another clusterfuck entirely. Consider yourself lucky I’m even considering it.”

  “You don’t have to,” she murmurs.

  I barely catch the words, leaning closer to eliminate misunderstanding. “I’m well aware, thank you.” I release a harsh exhale. “Shit, sorry. Thinking about her makes me meaner than usual.”

  She offers a limp nod. “Maybe we should skip it.”

  The green of Braelyn’s eyes is muted and dull. Fuck. If telling her about the nightmare that is Ollie’s mother will lift the shadows, I’ll rank us even.

  “Nah, I’m already in the fucking trench.” I rake through my hair, tugging on the roots until it burns. “Might as well make it count.”

  The server stops over, and I dismiss her with a flick. There’s no chance in hell I could eat after Braelyn’s story. Add in a putrid scoop of Veronica, and my stomach goes on strike. Revolt. Fight back. I’m more likely to blow chunks. My appetite has been replaced with a revolting gurgle that might require antacid. That describes Veronica quite perfectly.

  Braelyn quirks a brow. “Are you all right? You look a little green.”

  I swat her concern away. “I’ll be fine when this is over with.”

  A muscle clicks in her jaw. “Am I that impossible to be around?”

  I run a hand over my mouth to hide my sudden grin. That damn sass is too sexy. “Call off the firing squad. I’m not referring to you.”

  “Hopefully you understand why that’s my first assumption.”

  “Yeah, sure. It’s a decent guess. But in this case, you’re wrong.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” she mutters. My patience is a ticking bomb. “The window of opportunity is closing. You want to hear about her or not?”

  “If your fangs will only get sharper, the answer is no.”

  I point at her with my middle finger. “Now it’s your turn to curb the snark.”

  “Gentlemen first,” Braelyn retorts.

  “Good thing there aren’t any at this table.”

  She huffs. “You’re impossible.”

  “That’s my job.”

  Her gaze flares, the green almost electric. Ah, there she is. Mission fucking accomplished. She parts her lips, and I hold up a hand. Braelyn pins me with a glare, but remains silent.

  “Shit, where do I start?” I blow out a long breath. “I met Ollie’s mother at a bar near campus. Veronica was striking—beautiful but frigid. It seemed fitting that she was studying medicine. We were dedicated to our fields. There was no time for relationships, not that I ever wanted one. We’d hook up whenever our schedules aligned, which was rare. That suited me fine. Our arrangement was easy and convenient.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We kept this going for almost two years, until Veronica got pregnant. The day she found out was the true beginning of an agonizing end. The arguing started almost immediately. The last thing I wanted was a woman connected to me for the rest of my life. But that baby was mine, and I was prepared to raise him. Veronica felt the complete opposite. She planned to have an abortion the moment a doctor approved the procedure. Don’t get me wrong. I’m supportive of the woman’s right to choose. Unless, of course, that decision involved killing my child.”

  An erratic stampede thunders in my ears. There’s not a reality for me where Ollie doesn’t exist. It’s simply not a feasible thought. I clench my eyes shut and picture his smiling face. He’s the only good I have.

  Braelyn’s hands are curled into trembling fists. She looks ready to spit bullets. Not sure if her expression is aimed at me or Veronica. I’m guessing the latter. Either way, she gives me the fire power to continue traveling along this road paved in cruel memories.

  “By some miracle, I convinced Veronica not to terminate the pregnancy. It was a bloody battle. She made me miserable for nine months. Carrying him full term was a death sentence to her. As punishment, she set out to humiliate me whenever physically possible. She could write the book on manipulation. Veronica held everything over my head. Nothing was off-limits. She’d come to my office. Hound me at home. Come to the bar when I was out with friends. Wake me up at three o’clock in the morning with a list of demands. If I didn’t give, she’d threaten to call the clinic. That bitch had their number on speed-dial.”

  A tremor snakes up my limbs, making me shiver. “Veronica used our baby as a weapon against me. Once she was further along and showing, things went from bad to unbearable. She went legit psycho. I honestly don’t understand how she ever appealed to me. Whenever we were in public together, she’d fight with me on purpose. The ugly kind, like a wreck you can’t look away from. I was the worthless bastard who knocked her up. She let anyone within listening range hear about it. I’m thankful Veronica was stuck in town for med school. Even though I was in hell with her around, the alternative would have been worse. She would’ve left just so I’d have to chase her. Her tolerance for me shrank to nothing by the time Ollie was born.”

  I swallow the bile rising in my throat. “He was wailing with all his might, but Veronica wouldn’t even look at him. She left the hospital mere hours after giving birth. The doctors strongly advised against it, but there was no reasoning with her. She took off without a word, and I let her go. When the door slammed behind her, it was disturbingly clear that Veronica would only be known as an egg donor.”

  The restless air shifts and settles around me. A familiar numbness seeps into my pores, the haze of indifference expanding. “I had Ollie, and that’s all I cared about. For his sake, I try to remain civil whenever he brings her up. He wants to
know about her and why she left. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever struggled with. I could give a rip how she treated me. But Ollie deserves better.” My exhale is rough, purging the remaining debris left inside of me.

  “So, there you have it.” I dust off my palms. “Veronica shoved my empathy and compassion through a meat grinder. That shit is a pulverized mass, hideous and beyond saving. Not that there was much to begin with. Living happily ever after is a myth. That notion belongs in fairy tales and bedtime stories. Reality is a twisted, mangled version. The sanctity of marriage is a farce. My parents were stellar models for that sham. If the concept wasn’t already lost on me, Veronica would have finished the task. That’s what makes me a successful divorce lawyer.”

  Braelyn’s throat bobs with a gulp. “Well, now I’m the speechless one.”

  “We’re fucked up, huh?”

  She nods. “Sadly, yes. I’m not sure who’s worse off.”

  She is, of course. But I don’t dare voice that. “It’s not a competition.”

  “No shit?” Her eyelashes flutter shut, hiding that stunning gaze. But those mossy pools are fixated on me again a moment later. “Is Veronica gone for good?”

  I sneer at the sound of that woman’s name spilling from Braelyn’s lips. “She’s in California for her residency. I’d prefer Australia or Africa, but a few thousand miles between us is good enough for now.”

  “Do you think she’ll try to gain custody of Ollie?” The wobble in her voice is a punch to my solar plexus.

  Thick tar gurgles in my gut, staining everything with a black hue. “She’d be batshit to try taking me on. I’m a damn good attorney. My case against her would be bulletproof. Veronica wouldn’t survive the battle I’d rain down on her. All she cares about is her career. I’m sure she’ll make the best surgeon. Ripping out hearts with her bare hands is a specialty.”

  “I don’t get that. What kind of life will she have?”

  I’m quiet for a moment. Past and present collide with the future in my mind. “An isolated one. That type of solitary existence is what I always imagined for myself. Ollie changed that. He’s fulfilling dreams I never allowed myself to have.”

  Her sigh is a pleasant tune. “See? That’s what I mean. He’s everything to you. Why wouldn’t Veronica want to meet Ollie?”

  Pondering her question isn’t necessary. My response is split-second. “She’s callous and senseless. I sent her pictures from his first birthday, trying to be nice for Ollie’s sake. Maybe she’d want some semblance of a relationship with her child, right? Any sane mother would. Well, the sealed envelope was returned with a big note clearly stating not to contact her again.”

  Braelyn slaps the table. “She might be the worst human ever.”

  I grunt. “You haven’t met my mother.”

  Her jaw drops. “No wonder you have issues with women.”

  I cradle my throbbing skull. “We’re not getting into that tonight.”

  She hums. “That’s fair. I think we’ve made a lot of progress already.”

  My scoff bounces off the walls. “What?”

  Braelyn motions between us. “We have a better understanding, right? Bonded through pain or grief or whatever this is. Life has not been the smoothest ride. We get each other on a level most cannot reach.”

  “That’s some fluffy ass shit, Braelyn.”

  Her smile sparkles. “Just go with it. I’m feeling sentimental.”

  The last thing her damaged psyche needs is a man like me. But who am I to deny her? “Kindred fucking spirits. Awesome.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she giggles.

  The fact this woman can laugh after what she’s suffered through is a testament to her character. The center of my chest grows warm while I listen to the joyful sound. I rub at the tingling sensation and curse that soft spot for spreading. Exploring these feelings is more dangerous than dwelling on the countless ways my mother fucked me up.

  I adjust my watch, clocking the late hour. “Enough of this sappy shit. Let’s get to the reason we’re here.”

  Braelyn’s eyes are twinkling. “You wanted to take me out on a date?”

  “That’s hilarious.” My flat tone reflects zero amusement. I open the notepad app on my phone. “We’ll begin by reviewing your assets.”

  “Is that a sneaky way of asking to see my butt?”

  I almost choke on my tongue. “Strictly business, Braelyn.”

  She rests her chin on a closed fist. “Since when? That’s no fun.”

  “Writing a will isn’t meant to be.” A thought occurs to me. “How did you manage to open Thicket two years ago? You were what, twenty-three?”

  Braelyn lowers her gaze. “Devon had a will and left everything to me. That turned out to be more than enough capital to start Thicket. He included a simple note that told me to follow my heart. So I did.”

  Every ill word I’ve thrown out about that store slaps me in the face. Shit, I’m an asshole. I swallow a massive bite of humble pudding, which is far worse than pie. “I’m glad you were able to do that. He made sure you were taken care of.”

  “He really did,” she murmurs.

  I almost reach for her hand, but stop myself at the last second. “I’m sorry he’s not here to see what you’ve built.”

  “He is in his own way.” She spins the bracelet on her wrist. The rainbow colors are faded with age.

  The pressure in the room increases tenfold, and I find it hard to breathe. It’s becoming painfully obvious how bad of an idea this was. I have no right to get involved with her personal dealings. I open my mouth to diffuse this lit stick of dynamite, but she beats me to it.

  Braelyn pulls something out of her purse and sets it on the table. “Before I forget, these are for Ollie. I got a new flavor of taffy. He wasn’t in today so I figured you could give this to him.” She pushes the wax paper package closer to me.

  A torrential downpour wreaks havoc on the deserted lands that makes up my entirety. The concrete surface soaks in the moisture and groans for more. With a simple gesture, this woman ends my drought. She’s already busy planting ideas and sprouting possibilities. The desert in my chest will be a thriving rainforest if this continues.

  All I can do is stare at her offering and the implications waiting inside. Her eyes are searching too close, watching my inner storm pass and clouds lift. There’s more damage being erased with every blink.

  I lift the hefty sack of candy. “That’s a lot of sugar.”

  She shrugs. “He’s had a lot more on many occasions.”

  I clear the shrapnel from my throat. “Well, thanks. Ollie will love this. Maybe it’ll help him forgive me for hanging out with you when he wasn’t around.”

  Braelyn laughs. “We’ll just have a redo. The second time around will be better.”

  Dammit, she’s digging deeper into me. I just might let her.

  Braelyn

  Cross

  I tip my face up, allowing the midday sun to shine down on me. Is there anything better than kicking back while soaking in natural vitamin D? At this moment, I’m going with no. My new sunglasses paint everything in a rosy tint. The bright hue matches my mood. I’d stay here for hours and bathe in this cheery goodness. It’s a beautiful afternoon to be outside.

  The bench creaks beneath me when I cross my legs. Even though the wood is weathered and worn, this is my favorite place to sit. I release my hair from the confining bun. With a swoosh, long waves spill down my back. The breeze picks up, and golden strands swirl in every direction.

  All around me, the park is bustling with activity. Probably due to the temperature being that optimal blend of warm and balmy. A group of teens whip a frisbee around, chasing the disc back and forth. There’re countless children climbing all over the playground equipment. An adorable puppy scampers by with a young girl holding the leash. I smile at the pair.

  “I always wanted a dog. I begged my parents incessantly to no avail. They didn’t want another mouth to feed.” I wrin
kle my nose, the stench of those memories a sour burn.

  Sadie tilts her head toward me. “What’s stopping you?”

  I pick imaginary lint off my shorts. “I’m cautious to accept that level of responsibility.”

  She quirks a brow. “You own a business.”

  “That’s different. Thicket isn’t a living, breathing being.”

  “You could kill it off just the same.”

  I choke on a gasp. “Harsh.”

  “Truth.” Sadie lifts a shoulder. “And we both know you’d adopt Ollie in a heartbeat.”

  I part my lips, but nothing comes out. How do I respond to that without giving myself away? The mere suggestion of having that adorable boy around permanently is too much. My fractured spirit can’t handle that as a feasible possibility, so I settle on whispering, “That’ll never happen.”

  Sadie huffs. I imagine her eyes rolling behind those mirrored shades she’s wearing. “Don’t get mopey on me. We’re focusing on being positive.”

  I nudge her side. “I’m all good.”

  She slides her sunglasses down, giving me a once-over. “You’re different.”

  “Jeez, thanks. Not like I didn’t already know.” I feel a strain locking up my body, preparing to battle whatever threat crops up.

  She shoves me. “Not like that. You’re acting like the old Braelyn. I should have used the word better or cheerful. You’re the girl I met in advanced marketing our senior year.”

  With her observation, the tension in my muscles ease. I blow out a long breath. “Thanks. I like to think so. It’s been over a month since I’ve had a really bad attack. And that class was brutal. I wouldn’t have passed without you.”

  Sadie purses her lips. “Um, no. It was the opposite, and we don’t need to lie. You carried my ass that final semester.”

  I track a puffy cloud through the blue sky. “Just trying to give you a boost, Dee.”

  She taps her chin. “Well, in that case, how’s Mister Tall, Broody, and Sexy?”

  “Really? Talking about him will make you happy?” It takes a ton of effort to keep my voice level. Just hearing that man’s nickname makes me squirm.