Stepbrother Untouchable(59)

Pierce stands frozen for a moment, his head slightly cocked to the side. I can't see his face, and can't imagine what could be going on inside his mind. His carefully crafted history, now falling apart around him. He shakes his head slightly, as if waving away an unpleasant smell, then continues to walk down the hallway. He heads straight to the front door, and shuts it behind him. As we hear the sound of his car heading down the driveway, my mom straightens up, and Nate's arms fall to his sides.

“I need to be alone for a little while,” she murmurs, her gaze on the floor, and walks unsteadily toward the stairs. I watch her leave, wishing she had the strength to comfort me for even a moment.

“She's just in shock,” Nate says, reading my mind like always.

“I know,” I reply with a nod, struggling to keep myself together.

“I should have believed you.”

“I had no reason to lie.”

“I know. I just couldn't believe he was capable of that kind of thing, or maybe I didn't want to believe.”

“You said some awful things to me today. God, was that just today?” I ask with a sad laugh, reaching up to rub my forehead.

“I'm so sorry, Brynn. I was angry…sometimes my temper…I didn't mean any of those things. The time we've spent together—” he says, taking a step toward me.

“No, no. I'm not ready for that. I don't know if we can go back…” I murmur, a tear slipping down my face.

“Brynn, please, I can't lose you.”

“You were so ready to turn on me,” I whisper. “So ready to push me away and be done with me.”

“I was in shock at seeing her again. I didn't actually mean it.”

“But you said it, didn't you? The way I care about you…I would never treat you that way, would never want you to hurt. But you wanted me to hurt. You don't feel the way about me that I feel about you. You can't.”

“That's not true! You have no idea how much I care about—”

“I love you.” There's a long silence. I stare up into his beautiful face, my heart shattering as he doesn't reply. He just looks back down at me, some unknowable emotion flickering across his eyes. “Well, there you go. There you go. Goodbye, Nate,” I say, turning my back to him. He doesn't move.

“What are you going to do?” he finally asks quietly.

“Um, well,” I begin with a cold laugh. “I think I'm going to eat this cold grilled cheese sandwich, and then I'm going to start packing.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN





I survey my mom's old beat-up station wagon. Both the car and our old house were just on the verge of being sold, but my mom was able to back out. Luckily she was taking her time in the process because she didn't think she had to worry about money anymore. The car isn't even full—the only things that belonged to us here were our clothes and some knick-knacks. It only took me a few hours this morning to pack it up. It's both sad and comforting. Our old life is still waiting for us, almost as though this whole summer never happened.

But of course it did. I wondered last night if I would take these last few months back if I could. If I were given a magic wand that could make it so that my mom had never met Pierce, that I'd returned to our old house for the summer, that my relationship with Nate had never gone beyond that encounter in the crew house, would I wave it?

I don't know if I've ever felt so much pain as I have recently, but also never so much happiness. I was held in such a tight little shell before, never really experiencing the depths or heights of anything, and I suppose you can't have one without the other.

To never have held Nate in my arms…no, I can't imagine it. Despite so many terrible things having happened, I would never want to erase the time I spent with him, even if it would take away the pain I'm feeling right now. The pain that I can feel even in my bones, causing a throbbing ache throughout my whole body. It's like I'm detoxing from some powerful, addictive substance. One that I know only hurts me in the end.

I catch a glimpse of my slightly swollen lip in the car window from where Pierce hit me last night. We haven't seen him today—he must be holed up at a friend's house or a hotel. I don't even want to think of the divorce proceedings that my mom will be wrapped up in now.

I hear the front door shut behind me and turn—will it be Nate coming to say goodbye? But it's my mom, carrying one last small suitcase, her eyes covered in large, round sunglasses.

“Ready?” she asks, without looking at me. I nod, then remember one last thing I've forgotten.

“I'll be right back,” I say, and hurry in through the front door without explanation. I walk straight up the staircase and down the hall into my bedroom. It looks exactly the same as the first time I saw it. I pause for a moment, taking in the beauty of the furnishings for the last time, before walking over to my desk and opening the top drawer. I reach my arm all the way to the back and fish out the small slip of paper I stashed there.