Emma sat between her brother and Brant during her sister’s funeral. The visitation hour had been brutal. Standing next to her sister’s casket while everyone repeated over and over again how wonderful she looked was almost more than Emma could bear. Only Brant’s hand holding hers had kept her grounded in place. Without him, she would have bolted from the room. Her mother had stood beside her, chatting through her drug-induced fog, anchored firmly by Emma’s father while Boston had shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably on Brant’s other side. As soon as it ended, Emma had escaped to the restroom for a few moments to compose herself before walking back out to find Brant waiting for her. He took her hand, not saying a word, and led her toward the chapel.
She had been surprised to see her friends and coworkers from Danvers sitting a few rows behind the family pews. Suzy, Ella, Beth and Claire had all stood to hug her while Jason, Gray, Nick and Declan conveyed their sympathies with a brief embrace. Claire
had apologized that they hadn’t arrived early enough to attend the visitation. Emma was further surprised when Mark DeSanto and Ava Stone walked up behind them. They both hugged her as well, and Emma felt her eyes starting to burn with tears at the show of support from her friends. She had never expected to see familiar faces this far from Myrtle Beach, and she was touched that so many had made the trip. She was also glad to see Suzy looking so well after everything she had been through recently. That she would be here now meant so much to her.
As the rest of the family started to take their places, Brant had put his arm around her, steering her toward their pew. “Come on, honey, the service is starting.” Her legs had locked in place for a moment—she didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to say this final good-bye. Her friends looked on in sympathy, seeming to read her thoughts. Brant had leaned down to whisper in her ear, “It’s okay, just lean on me.” Her brain seemed to obey those words and her feet started slowly moving forward. They slid into the pew beside Boston and Emma allowed Brant to draw her firmly into his side. He had promised her yesterday to give her anything she needed and he was doing it so far. She would have never made it without him today. She wondered idly if he knew that.
Emma had perfected a process for surviving funerals when she was little and it automatically kicked in when the opening prayers began. First she started by counting the light fixtures in the chapel, then the
windows, then the pews, then the people. When that was finished, she started all over again. She had made numerous passes around the room when she looked up to see Brant watching her. At some point, he had started following her eyes and she could have sworn that he knew exactly what she was doing. Next to her, Boston, too, stared off into the distance. Farther down the pew, she saw tears trailing silently down her mother’s cheeks as she stared sightlessly ahead, and her father, who had been strong through the entire process, looked more in need of his wife’s support than at any other time since Robyn had passed.
Emma almost made it through the entire service without breaking down. Her mother had insisted on the final songs, and Emma should have anticipated how difficult it would be to hear them. Her mother wanted Robyn remembered for who she was and what she loved. The lights in the chapel dimmed and images started flickering on the screen in the front of the chapel. The song “There You’ll Be” by Faith Hill played first as images flashed by of Robyn holding a surfboard when she was barely old enough to walk.
If you could show a life in pictures, then their mother had certainly managed to do it. Emma had always hated having so many pictures taken by their parents. Now, as she saw her sister’s life played out before her eyes—even though it was incredibly painful to witness—she was happy that their mother had never let an important moment pass without capturing it. When the last song, “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry,
started playing, their father finally broke down and hastily left the chapel. The song had been a favorite of Robyn’s, and their mother had wanted it included even though it wasn’t exactly a traditional funeral song. Neither Emma nor her father had thought it was appropriate for a funeral, but her mother was adamant and Boston, of course, sided with her.
Now, to Emma, it felt like her sister was in the room for the first time. Sobs could be heard from all over the chapel as the slide show ended. She hadn’t even realized that she was quietly crying until Brant pressed a tissue in her hand. On her other side, Boston wasn’t doing much better. She gripped his hand tightly as Brant squeezed hers in return.
I love you, sis, and I always will,
she whispered in her mind.
She remembered Brant telling her that morning, “This is the worst day you’ll ever live through. You may not believe it now, but there will never be another day like today. Each new day will be better than this one.” She clung to those words like a promise as they left the chapel for the burial. For once she hadn’t argued with him because she wanted him to be right with all of her heart.
At last the house was quiet and everyone was gone. Emma sank gratefully into the tub of steaming water that Brant had insisted on running for her before going back downstairs to check on her parents. She suspected that he was really intent on cleaning up any messes left by the barrage of people who had visited earlier.
As the water eased some of her tension from the day, Emma’s mind started to drift. To say that she had been surprised by Brant the last few days was an understatement. Despite how mad and disappointed she was in him when she arrived in Florida, she had to admit that he had been the glue that had held all of them together. She had never doubted his organizational skills; the man had some serious OCD about stuff like that. Those same traits had been her family’s saving grace. She figured he had taken one look at them when he arrived and realized that he needed to take control. Her father, who could usually be counted on to keep an even keel, had looked to Brant for assistance with making the funeral arrangements. Both her mother and Boston had looked to him for everything from their clothing for the service to the gathering of friends and family at the house before and after the service. Emma had just needed his support. He knew when she wanted to be alone, when she needed to cry and when she just needed to talk. He had been their rock and regardless of what happened next, she would always love him for that.
She knew that he needed to return home soon, and she felt a pang at the thought of him leaving. Her friends from Danvers had dropped by the house after the service. Jason and Claire had pulled her aside and told her to take the time that she needed with her family and assured her that her job would be waiting when she was ready. She had been truly touched. She counted Claire as a friend but hadn’t often been in a social
setting with Jason. When she had started to thank him, calling him Mr. Danvers, since he was, after all, the president of the company, he had gently stopped her, insisting that she call him Jason. Truthfully, she had been tongue-tied to have their support. She had promised Suzy that they would catch up soon. Her friend looked wonderful after her ordeal, but you could hardly miss the protective arm that her husband, Gray, kept around her.
Emma shivered, realizing that the water had grown cold. She had been so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed that almost an hour had passed. She stepped out of the bath, toweling off before grabbing her robe. In the bedroom, she dressed for comfort in a long T-shirt before sliding into bed. She was still staring at the ceiling when Brant walked in. She hadn’t protested the first night when he had stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed, pulling her against his chest. She needed him and they both knew it.
Obviously thinking she was asleep, he crept quietly across the darkened room, going into the bathroom. She heard the shower running and a while later, the bed shifted as he settled in beside her. Without hesitation, she curled onto her side and he settled his big body around hers. “I thought you were asleep,” he murmured against her head.
Suddenly snuggling back against him with all of the unknowns between them seemed wrong. Despite her mental and physical exhaustion, she needed to know what had been going on with him for the past few
weeks. Pulling away, she reached over and snapped on the bedside light. They both blinked like owls for a moment until they adjusted to the artificial glow. Brant gave her a wary look before rolling over onto his back. He ran his hand through his hair, a habit that she had come to recognize was caused by stress.
She settled back against the headboard and said, “I need to know, Brant.” He pulled himself into a sitting position beside her, not bothering to ask what she was talking about.
Without hesitating, he started to speak. “You know that Alexia and I were once engaged.” At her nod, he continued on. “When she came to see me weeks ago, I was shocked. She and I hadn’t stayed in touch at all after we parted. Alexia was very quiet and shy when we met. Her father and I were business acquaintances. We fell in love, or what I thought was love, and were soon engaged. Looking back now, I can see that she was never truly happy. Her father was very controlling, so she basically traded one prison for another one with more freedom. Things took a real nosedive when she made a new friend who was heavily into the drugs and party scene. Without betraying Alexia’s trust too heavily, I’ll just say that Alexia got involved with the wrong sorts of people and ended up using pretty heavily. She left me standing in a parking lot after dinner one night and took off. That was the last time I saw her until she showed up in my office that day.”
“My God,” Emma whispered in surprise. “She looked fine when I met her.”
“She is . . . now,” Brant agreed, “but it took her a couple of years and hitting rock bottom to get to that point. She has just recently finished a stint in a rehabilitation facility for drug abuse. The doctor who helped her get treatment is also her fiancé. She came to town to visit her parents and tell them about what had been happening with her. They really didn’t know the level of her addiction or where she had been since leaving home. I guess they didn’t take it well and were more worried about appearances than their daughter. Her fiancé, Carter, was completely against her visiting her parents and possibly seeing old friends who were bad influences this soon after treatment. They had a fight before she left and after her parents turned her away, she didn’t feel that she had anywhere else to turn. She wanted somewhere away from all of the pressure, to regroup. I think she also feared relapsing if she was left on her own for too long.”
Emma found herself running a hand through her hair in much the same nervous gesture that Brant had used earlier. His story explained why Alexia was staying with him but didn’t explain why he had been pulling away from her. She feared that there was an explanation she wasn’t going to want to hear. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “Is she still staying with you?”
“No, I asked her to leave before I came here to you. Em . . . something happened while she was staying with me that I haven’t told you about.”
She nodded her head for him to continue, even
though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. If he had slept with Alexia, she didn’t think she could get past it . . . not now.
When he remained quiet, she prodded him softly. “Please tell me, Brant. I can’t stand not knowing.”
Clearing his throat, he said, “Remember the night I went out to dinner with her? I called you afterward. I’m sure you noticed on the phone that I’d had too much to drink.” When she agreed that she had, he continued on. “Well, the next morning she thanked me for agreeing to see if there were still romantic feelings between us. She needed to know before making a final commitment to Carter. I didn’t know what in the hell she was talking about. The only thing I remembered encouraging her to do was go back to school. I . . . just, fuck, I panicked. When Gray needed someone to cover his travel for a while, I jumped at it. I was scared because I was falling in love with you and there she was, making me doubt myself. Making me question my feelings. I realized after you left that the only thing I was really afraid of was loving and losing you. I never felt about Alexia the way I feel about you. She simply brought all of my fears to the surface. I was terrified of making a mistake and being destroyed by it again.”
“That’s why you were pulling away from me,” Emma added. “I guess you being sick was just an excuse too. But did you sleep with her?”
“No! Hell no, I didn’t. There really wasn’t anything physical involved. The day she told me that I’d agreed to see where things went, I left town. Things with
Alexia were never like they are between you and me. She isn’t someone to initiate physical contact beyond a hug.”
Stiffening, Emma asked, “Are you saying I’m all over you?”
“Shit, no, baby. Well, I mean, yes, I want you all over me every moment of the day. I can’t keep my hands off you. I don’t feel like that toward her; I never did.”
“I knew in my gut that something was wrong when you avoided me like the plague after you returned home from your trip. I thought you were sleeping with her.”
Brant took her hand before saying, “I didn’t sleep with Alexia. I know how this looks, but I swear nothing happened between us other than what I’ve told you.”
Emma sighed, partly relieved and partly hurt. “I believe you; but damn it you’ve had me on a complete emotional roller coaster. I thought we crossed into a new place in our relationship while you were away. Our phone calls every night made me believe that we were on the same page. Then you came home and immediately started pushing me away. I was totally confused. I thought you wanted Alexia and were just afraid to admit it to me. It was almost like going on a date with someone who never calls again and you’re left wondering what went wrong.”
Brant pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I know I made a fucking mess out of everything. I know you weren’t completely comfortable with her staying with me and I don’t blame
you. I’d have been a mess if the circumstances were reversed. Hell, I almost cussed my happily married brother out for taking you home that night.”