Taking Chances(145)

Bree sighed, but kissed my cheek and made her way to the living room while I went to the bedroom and started packing a few things. Grabbing money, my toiletries, pajamas, a change of clothes and everything Liam would need for two days, I was out of the house ten minutes after everyone left. Mom was surprised to see me, but after saying everyone was having a good time at our place, and I didn’t want to pick up Liam too late, she gave me a quick kiss and sent me on my way with my son. Bree texted me that the fight had started only ten minutes after I had us settled into a hotel room and I held Liam tight as I paced back and forth for twelve excruciatingly long minutes. As soon as she let me know that Brandon won, and all of them were safely in their cars and headed back to our house; I powered down my phone and curled onto the bed, letting loose the flood of tears that had been threatening to spill over since I walked out my door.





21





Looking at Liam in my rear view mirror, I bit my bottom lip nervously as I tried to calm my body’s shaking. It was Monday afternoon, and in the day and a half since I’d been gone, I still had yet to turn on my phone or speak to anyone and was now five minutes from the house. Brandon was supposed to be working today, but I had a feeling he’d be home when we got there, and I was trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever was waiting for me there.

I knew it was stupid to leave the way I did, and not leave a way for anyone to get ahold of me. But I had known I wouldn’t be gone more than two days, and I needed time for Brandon and myself to think separately. The fact that he was so willing to go back to fighting after everything we went through last year, and all his promises, killed me. And I still had no idea what I thought about it, or why I thought he had done it. My mind kept screaming at me that if he would do this, then our family really didn’t mean that much to him, but I knew that wasn’t true. Brandon loved us fiercely. Which kept leading me to the question that had been bothering me, why would he risk getting hurt, or worse, if he cared about us as much as I knew he did?

My stomach dropped when I saw Brandon’s Jeep in the driveway. Not bothering with the garage, in case I felt the need to make a hasty retreat again, I put my Expedition in park and just stared at the door. He was going to be so pissed. The few times I’d ever seen him truly angry were terrifying, and his anger hadn’t even been directed at me. Glancing down to my knotted hands in my lap, I was surprised when a tear fell onto my arm. Brushing the wetness from my cheeks I took a deep shuddering breath and got Liam and myself out of the car. I’d barely shut the front door when I heard Brandon running down the hallway. He skidded to a stop when he saw us and I inhaled a gasp. He wasn’t pissed, but he looked terrible. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot with dark half circles underneath. One hand was steadying himself against the wall while the other was clutching at his bare chest, rising and falling quickly with labored breaths.

“You – you’re –” He cursed softly and pressed his lips tightly together.

Liam started wiggling against me and asking for his dad, so I set him on the floor, watching as he quickly crawled toward Brandon. Brandon dropped hard to his knees and scooped him up in a tight hug, a sob breaking out of his chest. My chest tightened, I’d seen Brandon cry before, but he was always silent and as controlled as could be during those times. To watch his shoulders shake mercilessly and hear him continue to choke on his tears broke my heart worse than I thought possible. He rolled over until he was propped up against the wall and curled his body around Liam, murmuring things too low for me to hear.

On shaky legs, I walked into the hall and sat down against the wall opposite them, my knees barely brushing Brandon’s feet. At the contact, he abruptly stood up with our son and walked into the nursery. A wave of nausea rolled through me, but with the lack of morning sickness this pregnancy, I figured it had a lot more to do with the fact that I’d screwed up this situation even more, than with the pregnancy itself. The nursery door shut some time later, and Brandon’s hand stopped in front of me in offering. Placing my hand in his, I let him help me up, where he proceeded to lift me into his arms and carry me to our bedroom. Each step was careful as his brown eyes bore into my gray ones, when we reached the bed he laid me down so gently, as if he thought I would break from anything more. Without breaking contact from my eyes, he crawled in next to me, and rolled me onto my side so we were facing each other. I reached up to brush the remaining tears from his face, and traced the shadows under his eyes. Catching my hand, he kissed my palm, then the tattoo on my wrist before releasing my hand so he could cradle my face.