Authors: Emma Hart
He's holding on, barely, living every day without the person he thought he'd spend his whole life with.
I touch my lips to his cheek and take his hand. “How are you?”
“Better for seeing you, Maddie.” He smiles. There's a little light in his eye that lets me know it's true. “But what are you doing here?”
“I missed you, of course.”
“You don't have time off yet.”
I shrug a shoulder and look down. “I just wanted to see my Daddy.”
Gently, he pats the top of my hand. “Well, okay, sweetie. How about you go ahead and pop that kettle on?”
“Sure.” I stand and enter the white and red kitchen. There's a few dishes by the sink, only a day old, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. He's eating. “Do you need your tablets soon?”
I bustle around the cupboards and pull out my Piglet mug, giving Dad's a quick rinse under the tap.
“Please,” he replies.
I make two teas - no matter what he protests, he's not having coffee at two a.m. - and take them into the front room, handing him his pills. He takes them without complaint.
“I wasn't expecting you to be up,” I say as I look out of the window.
“Just as I wasn't expecting my daughter to arrive in the dead of night.”
I look at him, and he raises an eyebrow. I nod slightly. “All right, old man. You win.”
“I'm not asleep because the new tablets Doc gave me have a couple side effects, insomnia being one, but you?” He shakes his head. “I can't believe my daughter missed me enough that she'd turn up in the place of her nightmares at 2 a.m.”
I smile sadly, still focusing out the window.
“So what brings you here, Maddie? Your old man isn't stupid.”
“Y'know what, Dad? I'm really tired.” I drink the last of my hot tea, stand, and stretch. “I think I'll head on up to bed. You try and get some sleep, okay? Goodnight.”
I kiss his forehead and leave the room. I bump my suitcase up the stairs and push open the door to my room. The white and pink room is untouched. I shut the door and after changing into some pajamas I left behind, I climb into bed, sinking into the rose-smelling fabric.
He still uses her favorite softener.
My phone vibrates from its position on my nightstand, and I grab it. Megan's name is on the screen.
Where are u? Everyone’s trying 2 find u. Bray's going crazy.
I bite my lip.
I'm in Brooklyn. I caught the next flight out. I needed to get away. I'm sorry. Don't worry xo
She responds immediately.
Shit the bed, Mads! Brooklyn? When will u be back? Xo
I'm not sure. Night, Megs xo
I turn the cell off and put it face-down, pulling my covers up to my chin.
Why would Braden be going crazy? It's painfully obvious he doesn't care about anything other than sex.
I choose to block all the memories away in a box and close my eyes, a single tear slipping out and falling onto the pillow.
~
I wake to a silent house. Well, an almost silent house. I open my bedroom door, and I can hear light snoring coming from Dad's room – no surprise there.
I pull my old robe tighter around me and silently pad down the old wooden stairs. Somehow, they never creak. I'd asked Mom about it once, and she said the fairies had come in as a favor and magicked them to silence. She'd apparently left a chocolate cake at the bottom of the garden in thanks.
I was seven, so I believed it. I also searched relentlessly for said fairies for the next six months. Unsurprisingly, I never found them.
In the light of day, in the old kitchen, the temperature difference suddenly hits me, and I shiver, making a beeline for the kettle in the corner. As it boils, I look out at the garden and the weaker winter sun shining on it.
Memories crash into me with the force of a tidal wave. They flit through my mind one at a time in quick succession. So quick I forget to breathe. I see Mom and Abbi
.... Pearce and Dad.... Smiles.... The princess party I had when I was six.... The flowers Mom and I planted when I was ten.... The rose bushes Dad put in, saying '
two rose bushes for my two beautiful girls
'.... Everything....
I hold onto the counter and press my temple with my other hand. Tears stream from my eyes, and I try to breathe deeply, to control it, the overwhelming feeling of loss sweeping through my body. It rises higher and higher until I feel choked. More recent memories flash in my mind
.... And there's one constant. Always one thing, just the one thing I see.
Electric blue eyes.
Braden.
I give in to the pain. I let myself let it go, and I slide down the cupboard to the old, stone floor as the kettle reaches its bubbling crescendo.
Brooklyn.... California.... The pain is always there.
“Brooklyn? She's in fucking Brooklyn?” I yell at Megan and kick the bar in the kitchen. “Why is she there?”
“Because she doesn't want to be here,” she replies simply, sipping a lemonade.
“Have a fucking point for your smart-ass board, Megan,” I reply. “How are you so calm? She's in fucking
Brooklyn
!”
“I know where she is. She's at her Dad's, and she's safe. She needs to-”
“Don't you fuckin' dare tell me she needs to calm down! You told me that last night, and now she's not even here! If you'd just let me go after her-”
“You would have done something stupid, like pin her against a wall and force her to listen to you.” Megan looks at me pointedly.
“Well,” I say uncomfortably. “It wouldn't be unrealistic to say I'd do that.”
“Thank you.”
“But that's not the point,” I protest. “The point is, she's in Brooklyn. I'm in fucking California. How am I supposed to tell her the truth?”
“Which is what?”
“You know, Megan. Don't treat me like a fool.”
“Y'know what, Bray?” Her blue eyes are clear, and there's a hint of ice in them. “I don't know, because you've never actually been truthful when you've told me how you feel about her. You've fed me bullshit, and now? I still don't
know. I know what I see, not what actually is.”
I sigh and sink onto the stool next to her, resting my elbows on the bar top and putting my head in my hands.
“I love her. I'm in love with her.”
Megan slurps as she sucks the last of her lemonade through her straw. She stands, putting a hand on my shoulder and leaning close to me.
“Then when she comes back, you better be ready with a whole damn production to let her know.”
She kisses the top of my head and leaves. The front door closes, and since it's still early, I'm the only one up.
I'm also the only one who didn't sleep last night.
I rub my eyes and look at the clock. Nine a.m. There's no point going to bed now, so I get up and flick the coffee machine on.
“Enough in there for two?”
My body tenses. “Depends. Any room in your car for two?”
“You know then.”
“Don't have to be a fuckin' genius to work it out, Kyle. Maddie's in Brooklyn, and you drove away five minutes after she left here last night. You took her to the airport.”
“She asked.”
“I don't give a fuck.” I turn and look at him. He steps back. “I don't give a fuck that she got there, or how she got there. All I care about is that she's there, and not
here
where she damn well should be. She hates that city, so right now she must really hate me if she'd rather be there than here.” I turn back to the coffee pot, slamming two mugs on the counter. I fill them and slide Kyle's along the counter, stepping to the side.
“Well, shit,” he says, taking the mug.
“What?”
“I never thought I'd see the day Braden Carter cared about a girl for more than
what’s in her pants.”
I put the mug down. “You sound surprised.”
“I'm surprised you care. Am I surprised its Maddie you care about?” I look at him and he shakes his head. “Nah, man. Not at all. Much as I hate it, you're good together.”
I snort. “Just to convince her of that, now, right? Cause that's a walk in the fuckin' park.”
“You weren't the only one that played a game, Braden.” Kyle grabs his mug and stands up straight. “You both set out to play each other, and you did. You wouldn't listen to her when you found out, and now she won't listen to you. I'd say that's a level playing field, wouldn't you?” He quirks his eyebrows and walks past me, slapping my shoulder once.
A level playing field.
“Hey, Kyle?” I turn. “Thanks, man.” He salutes me and turns.
A level playing field. Another round of the game. Except this time, the stakes are a lot higher.
Because its two hearts invested into it.
~
My foot taps against the back porch as I lean against the wall, staring out at nothing in particular. It's been a week since I walked out of Maddie's dorm, and I didn't think it was truly possible until now, but I miss her.
I miss her so fucking much, it hurts.
But it’s not as if I can cross the road and talk my way into the dorm block to speak to her. Well, look how that turned out last time. No, because she's in fucking Brooklyn.
Brooklyn.
I don't want to think of the pain it must have caused her to go back there, to a place she hates so deeply. She left because of me. Because I ran off and had a bitch fit for her doing exactly what I was doing.
What I was doing. Whether we both played a game or not, at some point, we would have had the same result. At some point, we would have fallen in love. Because, like Megan said to me, your forever person could be right there in front of you the whole time.
I'm nineteen. I don't do forever.
At least, I didn't. And then Maddie let me in. Whether she meant to or not, game playing or not, she let me in. And I saw it in her eyes last night. It was no game to her, and goddamn it all to hell, she's the realest fucking thing I've ever known.
After scrubbing the kitchen to work out the breakdown of this morning, I grab my coffee mug in both hands and sink into one of the kitchen chairs. It's not quite Starbucks, but for the first time in a year, I don't have the energy to make the run two blocks across to the nearest coffee shop.
The floorboards creak from upstairs, and a few seconds later Dad shuffles into the kitchen. He's already dressed – I guess I blocked everything out when I was cleaning.
“Morning, Maddie.” He kisses the top of my head and stops, looking around. “Kitchen looks clean.”
I shrug a shoulder. “I needed something to do.”
He glances at me as he pours a coffee. He takes four tablets from the bottles lined behind the kettle and throws them back, washing them down with the coffee. Dad makes his way to the table and sits opposite me, his gray-blue eyes studying me.
“So,” I say to break the silence. “Do you usually sleep this late?”
He grunts. “Like I said, damn tablets give me insomnia. So lately, yes.”
I nod. “Has Doc said how long it'll be for the side effects to wear off?”
“Few weeks. Like normal.”
I know it's a touchy subject for Dad. As much as he hates the fact he's living without Mom, he hates appearing weak. To him, depression is a sign of weakness.
It's not. Depression is a sign of strength – because it means no matter how weak your mind might be to you, your heart is still strong enough to feel.
“That's not too bad then. Hopefully you'll be back to normal in a few weeks.” I reach over and pat his lightly wrinkled hand. He looks at me, and I notice the little lines around his eyes, the faint indents around his mouth that should be proper laughter lines.
“As normal as I can be, Maddie,” he replies sadly, turning his hand under mine and squeezing my fingers.
I nod softly, knowing his words are true. Without her, he'll never be the same person he was when she was alive.
“So. You never did say why you were back,” Dad hedges.
I grimace slightly. “Like I said, I missed you. You must get lonely being here by yourself.”
“I might be alone, Maddie, but being alone doesn't mean you're lonely.” Dad sips his coffee. “In fact, I'm never alone. Your mother lives on in my heart. She's always with me.”
I blink back the tears that rise in my eyes.
“Nice save, by the way, kiddo.” He winks at me. “I get it. You don't wanna talk right now, but Maddie? By the time you go back to Berkeley, whenever that is, we will be talking.”
I sigh and run my finger around the top of my mug. “Okay, Daddy. Have you
.... Er, have you heard from Pearce?”
Dad nods sharply. “Couple days ago. He got picked up for possession on his way back here. He was in downtown Brooklyn just about to hail a cab. Cop smelled whatever crap it was he'd been smoking. You know it ain't his first offense, Mads, so he's waiting for bail. If he gets it. He called here asking me to bail him out and I refused. Time that boy stopped being babied and helped by us.” He gives me a pointed look.