by K. L. Myers
Their glasses clanked together, and Braxton smiled at his best friend. He had been perfectly fine with Reed, Michaels, and Reed. He had said back then that it didn’t matter the name as long as they were together. But after the loss of his parents and the money to get their business running coming from his inheritance, Paisley came up with a new name for their venture. She had been insistent that it be called Michaels and Associates. Of course, Braxton hadn’t argued with them.
Shortly after they’d gone into business Paxton’s former employer came after Michaels and Associates sighting that Paxton broke his non-compete clause. Even though the claims were false, the threesome had known they would need strong representation if they were going to fight a mega operation like GSM&S. And after talking about it, they’d agreed Alissa was the right fit for their company. She’d had the skills they required.
Now it only seemed fitting that since there were two Reeds at Michaels and Associates, there should be two Michaels. And Braxton planned to propose to Alissa tonight.
Braxton raised his glass and began to clear his throat, but he was quickly interrupted.
“I’m not done toasting.” Paxton smiled when he looked at Megan, sitting to his left. “Megan has agreed to move in with me, so I’d say that in itself is worth celebrating.”
Megan raised her shoulders slightly and then let them fall while smiling sheepishly. It wasn’t too long ago that Paxton, the self-proclaimed bachelor, had lost his man card to this pint-sized Irish publicist. He had met her at one of the company parties earlier that year and had instantly known she was the one. Braxton had been trying to convince Megan that Michaels and Associates needed her on their staff, which had led the way for Paxton to begin working on claiming her for himself.
“What can I say?” Megan beamed. “He finally wore me down. I couldn’t take his whining anymore.” Her smile became more radiant as she continued, “It was getting pathetic.”
“Ah, come on. It wasn’t that bad, and you’re making me sound like a pussy.” Paxton tore his eyes from Megan and glanced around the table. “You all know I’m no pussy, right?”
Everyone at the table began laughing, prompting Paxton to toss several napkins in their direction.
Braxton knew it was now or never; he may not get this opportunity again with the way the night was going, and he had been planning this all day. He pushed away from the table, dropping to one knee in front of Alissa and holding out the velvet box that contained her two and a half-carat princess-cut diamond.
“Marry me?” Braxton asked. “Be my partner in life and business, because I honestly can’t imagine a minute of my day spent without you. I want it to be you and me always. Conquering the world with you by my side.”
When Alissa didn’t immediately answer, a lump formed in Braxton’s throat. He began to wonder if he’d messed up the proposal by doing it so publicly. He hadn’t considered that she might say no to him in front of everyone. Dread began to weigh heavily on him, and he could no longer continue to offer up his heart for rejection. Braxton shifted off his knees and commenced to stand.
Alissa launched herself into his arms, knocking him backward and slightly off balance, and it took every muscle he had to keep them from falling to the floor.
“Yes.” she nodded. “I’ll marry you.” Her lips found his as they sealed their commitment to each other, causing clapping to resonate not only from their table but from those around them.
After a few moments, Braxton broke their kiss. “I thought you were going to say no, babe. You had me scared there for a minute.”
Alissa smiled at him. “That was the worst proposal on the face of the earth, so you deserved it. You’re lucky I know how much you love me and that you were sincere.”
He proposed to Alissa. You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.
He couldn’t possibly mean it. The Braxton, Paisley had known her entire life would have come up with something more romantic—something from the heart.
She was destined to be alone for the rest of her life because she loved a man who didn’t reciprocate her feelings. At least, not the same way she cared for him. Still, she continued to hope, and hated herself for it.
Paisley had seen it during the last year. She was the first one he called to share all his celebrations with, or when he felt like he was losing control of a situation. Not Alissa. Even growing up, Braxton had told her everything before he even told Paxton. Paisley knew she’d always be the biggest part of his heart. Maybe someday he’d come to his senses and realize it. That hope would have to be enough to get her through tonight.
Part II
The Present
Chapter 12
Present Day
Braxton looked at his best friends, his eyes darting back and forth between them. Paxton stood before him, looking as equally stunned as Braxton. Paisley sat beside him, her hand resting on his forearm. She appeared as though her world had been ripped apart. Tears fell from her eyes, and it was apparent she felt the same as Braxton.
“What am I going to do?” Braxton didn’t expect an answer. It was more of a statement than a question. “I have no experience being a parent, let alone a responsible one. Alissa was supposed to guide me through this, show me the way and teach me.”
Braxton placed his head in his hands. His elbows rested on his legs, and he began to cry once again. He was a ship lost at sea, sailing through a dense fog with no idea which way to go and no compass to guide him to safety. It was just him and the gusting winds threatening to capsize his boat.
“It’s going to be okay, Brax,” Paisley promised.
“How can you say that?” he snarled at her. “You have no idea that it will be okay. None at all. Christ, Paisley. Listen to what you just said. It won’t be alright. I have no clue what to do. Grow up.”
Braxton immediately regretted what he’d said. He knew she was just trying to comfort him, but he didn’t need someone appeasing him. He needed fucking help. He needed Alissa.
As if a fire had burned her, Paisley pulled her hand from his arm “I’m sorry. I was just trying—”
“Trying to help,” he snapped “I know that’s what you want to do. That’s all you’re ever good at—trying. but you never help.”
Paisley stood, her hand against her mouth. “I’m sorry, Brax.” With tears in her eyes, she turned and ran out of the room.
Paxton glared at him. “Was that necessary? I know you’re hurting, brother, but taking it out on us isn’t going to make it any better.” Paxton walked a couple of paces and then stopped and turned to face Braxton. “Get your shit together. Or you will know what being alone and doing this by yourself really means.”
Just like that, Paxton left, and Braxton was all alone. He pressed his face back into his palms, breathed in deeply, and sighed. What next?
Braxton stood in front of the window of the hospital nursery. It shielded him from the screaming babies, offering him a brief respite from what was to come. Having the cries muffled gave him a sense of protection from the unknown. His insecurities were trying to reach up and drag him into the depths of hell. A hell he knew was soon to come, once he left here with his child—alone. His daughter lay in her plastic bassinet resting—oblivious to the fact that she had no mother.
She didn’t cry, not even when the nurse placed a nasal cannula under her nose. Her eyes remained fixated on the light above her. Beneath the blanket that swaddled her, her little legs kicked back and forth. A pink beanie covered the top of her head—a head that was dusted with the same colored hair that her mother had had. His chest tightened at the sight, and he briefly pounded the center of it, hoping to keep his heart from stopping.
“It’s just you and me, little one,” he whispered quietly into the air. “Just you and me. God help us.”
Unsure what to do, Braxton shoved his hands into his pockets and began to rock back and forth on his heels. A nurse stepped beside the bassinet that was labeled GIRL BABY MICHAELS. She placed the pacifier into his daughter’s m
outh and then turned toward the window before pointing at him and then to his daughter. Braxton nodded yes in acknowledgment, proud to claim her as his. The nursed headed to the double doors on the far right and Braxton made his way over to her.
She stood at the entrance. “Mr. Michaels?”
“Yes, I’m Braxton Michaels.”
She held a scanner in her hand. “Can I see your wristband?”
Braxton raised his arm, extending it toward her so she could scan the plastic bracelet. An older nurse had placed it on his arm earlier as she explained the hospital’s visiting process. Without Alissa, he didn’t have a hospital room to have his daughter brought to but he could spend time in the nursery with her.
“She’s doing remarkably well. She’s showing a little respiratory distress, so that’s why we have her on extra oxygen. Did they inform you that she’ll be here a couple of days while they run some blood cultures?”
Braxton couldn’t find the words to respond, so he shook his head to indicate his answer.
She must have picked up on his nervousness, because she continued in a reassuring voice. “It’s pretty standard when the mother has had a fever. We want to rule out the possibility that there could be any sepsis or infection. Based on what I’ve read, I’m sure your fiancée’s fever was likely a symptom of the placental abruption and not the cause of it.”
She placed her hand on Braxton’s forearm. “How about we introduce you to your daughter?”
Braxton raised his head, his eyes meeting hers. “I’d really like that,” he told her. “How long can I visit for?”
She smiled at him. “The NICU is open twenty-four hours so aside from when we do our shift change, you are welcome to stay as long as you want. Come and go as you please.”
Braxton followed as she led him toward his daughter. She turned to address him as they walked. “But remember, you have to take care of yourself as well, Mr. Michaels.”
Braxton pulled up a chair and sat beside his daughter’s bassinet, staring down at her. Her green eyes were mesmerizing. Her little pink lips suckled on her pacifier as she stared at him. It felt as though she was looking into his soul, and he was frightened of what she may see.
Braxton looked around the room, ensuring no one was close by before he spoke to her. “Hey there, beautiful. It’s me, Dad. Do you recognize my voice? I talked to you every night so that you’d know you weren’t alone inside your mommy’s tummy.”
The pacifier moved up and down. She blinked a few times before she turned her eyes away to stare at the ceiling again. Braxton was unsure of what to do, so he did nothing. He sat there and he held her tiny hand between his fingers while brushing his thumb over it. Then he silently prayed to God—a God he’d rarely asked anything of before today.
Bending his head, he closed his eyes and asked for things he had no business asking.
Dear God, please give me guidance. I’ve never been good at taking care of myself, or even Alissa, so now what do I do with this precious gift you’ve given me?
What if I fail her? How will I know if I’m doing what needs to be done to protect her? I don’t have the instincts that a mother has. And I have no mother to ask questions of. This baby deserves better than me.
Give me answers, God. Do I unselfishly give her up to parents who can raise her right? Parents who will love her: where she’ll have the support of a mother and a father?
Tears began to roll down Braxton’s cheeks. He loved her more than anything. She was a part of him, but how could he be what she needed when he didn’t have any idea what that was?
He sat and cried for what seemed like forever until a hand on his shoulder startled him. He instantly reined in his emotions, wiping his face with both of his hands and then drying them on his jeans. Slowly he raised his head to find the nurse from earlier standing next to him.
She smiled at him before she said in a consoling voice, “You’ve got some company outside.” She motioned toward the window. “They’ve been waiting for you to notice them.”
Braxton turned his head to find Paisley and Paxton standing front and center, and his heart skipped a beat. His family were right there, willing to be by his side. Maybe he would be alright.
Chapter 13
Braxton’s hands shook and he fumbled with his keys, trying to get them into the lock. Stop being a pussy, he told himself as he finally unlocked the door and pushed it open. When he’d left the hospital without his precious girl or his fiancée, a piece of him stayed behind. He knew walking into an empty home that would remind him of everything he’d lost would be hard, but he hadn’t imagined it would be this hard.
He was afraid and sweat began to bead at the edge of his hairline as his hands started to shake again. He forced through the door, and an emptiness fell upon him. His home was quiet, too quiet. This is your home; you can do this.
His mind raced, questioning everything about being here alone. Could he live in a home that would remind him of Alissa? A home that had been prepared to receive a family, not a single father and his child? The sound of his shoes moving across the tile floor was deafening. One more sign that, yes, he was all alone. So alone, and there was nothing that he could do about it.
Braxton stopped in front of the fridge. After reaching in, he grabbed himself several bottles of beer. As he walked toward the living room, he opened a bottle, raised it to his lips and drank, placing the other three on the end table beside him.
He sat and began to twirl the bottle cap over his fingers. It slowly moved from his pointer finger to his middle, then to his ring finger and back again. Magicians did it with coins, but years ago he’d learned to do it with bottle caps. He recalled the night he, Alissa, and the twins had celebrated the signing of Jefferson Peterson—an A-lister whose debut film about a magician who was also a mass murderer had been breaking box office records.
Show me some magic, Alissa had said to him, her voice slurring.
He recalled he’d do that later that night when she’d be spread out before him, and he’d make his dick disappear inside her. He hadn’t realized the twins had been listening until Paxton cracked up, laughing at his joke, and he’d caught Paisley shaking her head at him, not finding the humor in his words.
Alissa had been so drunk; she wasn’t aware that anyone had heard him so when she asked him again to show her some magic like Jefferson was demonstrating, Paxton piped up, begging for Braxton to show her the magic right there and now.
Alissa had glanced at Paxton with a disoriented look on her face. She'd then raised her hand, pointing across the room. Everyone’s eyes had followed her hand. There stood Jefferson, a coin rolling over his fingers as he’d entertained his model conquests of the night. It wasn’t long before Braxton had a bottle cap in his hand, and after a few attempts, he had mastered the magic Alissa had wanted to see.
Braxton downed the other half of the bottle in one swig. Not because he was thirsty, but because he wanted to drown out the memory; it was his solution to his current predicament. He was bound and determined to get piss-faced drunk and pass out.
His phone pinged with an incoming text. He didn’t move. The last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone right now.
He tipped back another bottle and guzzled the contents in yet another single swig. When it was gone, he reached for another. Only this time, he decided to nurse the drink for a little longer than the last two. His phone pinged again but instead of grabbing it, he gripped the empty bottle beside him and threw it against the wall where it shattered into pieces.
Fuck it. He downed the final bottle. He was angry at God, angry at the world, and most of all, angry at Alissa. He blamed all of them for what had happened. He had to place blame somewhere, or the anger would subside and the sorrow would take over. And he wasn’t ready to cry again.
PING. PING. PING.
“Christ, just leave me alone,” he screamed into the emptiness of his home as his phone received text message after text message. He glared at the three empty bottles on the
table in front of him and the pieces of the one he’d smashed against the wall. His head rested against the back of the sofa, and he was ready to surrender to the oblivion and forget about the day when a pounding resonated from the front door.
“GO AWAY!” Braxton yelled. But the thumping didn’t stop; it only grew louder. He raised his hands to cover his ears, trying to drown out the noise, but the ringing of the doorbell only joined the knocking.
“I’M FUCKING COMING!” Braxton yelled as he stood on wobbly legs and stumbled toward the front door. He wrenched it open to find a disheveled Paisley standing before him.
“Jesus, Brax. I’ve been messaging you. What the hell?” Her shoulder brushed against his as she forced her way into his home. Just the slight touch of her body to his had him stumbling backward.
Braxton was angry at Paisley for keeping him from slipping into the darkness. He wanted to forget everything. “I fucking heard them, but I have no interest in reading any of them right now. Just leave me alone, will you?”
Paisley stopped dead in her tracks, and he followed her gaze to the empty bottles on the table. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, a disgusted look etched on her face. “You’re drunk.”
Braxton stepped around her petite body, finding his way back to the comfortable spot he’d just vacated. “Yep, I think I am.”
With one hand, Paisley swiped the bottles from the table. “It wasn’t a question, you idiot. What I don’t understand is why you would do that.”
Paisley stood in front of him incessantly rambling. His voice was cold when he responded, “Why, you ask? Do you not remember today at all, or are you just stupid?”
Her eyes squinted in irritation at him. And he was so focused on her distorted face that he didn’t see her move her right arm, but he felt it when her palm landed against his head.
