So this was about family? His family? What, did his dad not let him use his truck? Surely that wasn’t what all this was about.
“Brady, what happened?” I repeated my question.
He sighed and winced. “I went to his office. He was working on a Sunday. Who the hell works on a Sunday? Apparently my dad does. But he wasn’t working.” The look on Brady’s face made me sick. My stomach knotted up. I hoped this wasn’t going where I feared it would.
“Brady, no,” I whispered, already seeing the pain so clear on his face to know this was going to end badly. Terribly.
“She was younger, blond, naked, and on his desk. His pants were down.” He stopped and inhaled sharply. Just saying those words had to be like a knife being shoved in his chest. He had parents like mine. The ones everyone trusted and believed were perfect.
I didn’t know what to say. If this had been me, was there anything that could have been said to ease my pain? No. The suffering would never end. It would ruin me. Moreso than Rhett had. Bryony had healed that, but could anything heal this?
“He didn’t see me. They were too busy.” He said the last word like a sour taste in his mouth. “And my mom was home cooking him his favorite dinner. The cake he loves so much was in the oven smelling up the house.”
My heart was breaking. For Brady and his mother. These secrets never stayed a secret. They always found a way of coming out. This was a small town, and Brady was the golden boy. His family was the rock-solid type that everyone respected. It would all come tumbling down.
“And my biggest concern when I woke up this morning was a fucking football game. I’ve never had a real problem. Never faced something that changed my life.” He turned his head and finally looked at me. “But you have. You lived through hell and came out okay. How did you survive?”
I wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be all right. But that was a lie you told children when they lost their pet. It wasn’t the truth. No one had ever told me that. But my heart hurt for him, and fighting the urge to comfort him was hard. It wasn’t what he needed, though. I knew that. My feelings for Brady had grown stronger with each day, and I never realized how seeing him in pain would affect me. Until now. I did what I had to do. I told him the truth. He’d been fed enough lies about life.
“You survive. You remember that life is hard. Shit happens and you have to get tough. The fairy tale from our childhood is gone. Living in it makes us weak. Your mom will need you, and you’ll have to be strong for both of you.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
I understood that feeling too. I’d had it often back then. When I thought my life was over and I’d never make it through.
“You can. You just have to find it deep inside. It’s there. The strength. We all have it, but it lies dormant until we need it. Then we have to look for it and use it.”
I Hope You Slept Well
CHAPTER 28
BRADY
My head was pounding when I opened my eyes. A pair of big blue eyes were staring back at me. Startled, I jumped, but she continued to stare. Her head tilted to the side. She looked a lot like her mother at that moment.
“Hey?” she whispered, still very close to my face.
I glanced down at my body and saw I was on a sofa in Riley’s grandmother’s house, covered in a yellow-and-blue afghan. Riley hadn’t allowed me to drive last night, and I was glad. Not because I agreed that I was drunk but because I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to see my dad.
The sick knot returned, and I wanted to go back to sleep, where yesterday never happened.
“Have you seen Thomas?” an older lady asked me as she walked into the living room. She wasn’t concerned that I was on her sofa.
“No,” Bryony answered her, then she looked back at me. “Thomas wif Jesus,” she said, still whispering.
I couldn’t even begin to understand that, so I just nodded.
“Good morning, Brady. I hope you slept well,” Mrs. Young said as she entered the room. I sat up on the sofa this time and wondered if she had known I was here. It had been late when we came inside last night.
“Uh, yes, ma’am. Thank you,” I replied.
“No reason to hurry. I just woke Riley up. She’ll be in here in a moment. I’m making some coffee. Do you want any?” It seemed as if Riley had told her I was here last night. She wasn’t at all surprised.
“No, thanks. Not a coffee drinker,” I replied.
“Good. Don’t become one. It’s the hardest habit to break. I drink way too much of it.”
“Have you seen Thomas?”
Riley’s mother turned to her own mother and patted her on the back. “Not this morning. Why don’t we go get your breakfast started. He’ll turn up sometime.”