could be trusted, but then she’d glared at me with such hatred and suspicion, I knew a clean slate wasn’t possible. We were past the point of friendly first dates and slow-rolling romance. In a way, I was relieved by her fire; if she truly wanted nothing to do with me, there wouldn’t even have been sparks. She was mine, and I would have her regardless of what the next four days held for us.
So that’s what I told her.
I’d had no intention of laying my cards out so candidly. Even to my own ears, I’d sounded like a caveman, declaring that she was mine and she had no say in the matter—and well, maybe she didn’t. She’d told me how she felt and though she pushed back in the gym, I knew she didn’t want me to walk away for good. She wanted me to make a bold move, to chase her and beg if necessary, and though I wasn’t accustomed to forcing my way into a woman’s heart, I knew this time was different.
The same qualities I’d come to love about Brie made up the wedge she was using to drive us apart. She thought she could push me aside for a few days until she was ready to pick us back up again, but truthfully, it wasn’t possible. The moment I admitted to myself that I wanted more with Brie, there was no holding back, and even at that moment, as I rounded the trail back toward the start of the village, I knew at the end of the Olympics, I wouldn’t be going back to Seattle.
Texas was a place I’d avoided for the last ten years. I’d visited every now and then, but I hadn’t ever considered the idea of moving back for good. I’d settled into my role of spiteful son and hadn’t let my mother or grandfather nudge me from that comfortable seat. After ten years, the grudge had grown like a tree, sinking deep roots into scars that refused to heal. The resentful leaves had bloomed and blocked out any hope for reconciliation—and yet when my mother had called from the emergency room, hysterical over the idea that my father would die before we made peace, I’d felt the branches shiver.
I didn’t think my father and I would ever have a normally functioning relationship, but in the last few weeks, I’d started to throw around hypotheticals: What if I offered him forgiveness? Would he reject it? Could we both put the past in the past?
In the quiet of my run, the answers could sometimes be heard.
Would I ever treat him as a father?
No.
Would I ever spend time with him the way I’d wanted to as a child?
Never.
I could forgive him, but I wasn’t looking to build a relationship with him. I didn’t entertain the farce of us becoming an all-American family, but I could see the value in peace. The stale anger in my heart no longer served me, and with it gone, I could dedicate that space to something much more important: loving Brie Watson.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Brie
“Hudson invited me to watch a movie at his condo later,” Rosie said at dinner later that night.
I cut the chicken on my plate, sawing it until it was all but shredded. The dull knife screeched on the ceramic and turned everyone’s attention to me.
“Uhh, Brie?”
I glanced up to see Molly, Lexi, and Rosie eyeing me suspiciously from around the circular table.
“What?”
Lexi narrowed her eyes. “Do I need to hide all the sharp objects in the condo?”
I rolled my eyes and let it drop, proving to her that I was fine.
“What were you saying, Rosie?” I asked, trying to divert the attention away from me.
“Hudson wants me to hang out tonight.”
“That’s great!” Molly said with a big smile.
I tried on a smile of my own, but it felt awkward, lopsided, and tight. Lexi noticed, watching me carefully. I shook my head, trying to convince her not to bring Erik up in front of Molly and Rosie. I felt like a ball of emotion and I wasn’t sure when it would boil over. I’d cry or scream or fight if given the chance, so for the moment I needed to focus on something simple like cutting my chicken into tinier and tinier pieces. I reached for my knife again, but Lexi beat me to it.
“Okay, cool it. You’ve officially chopped that bird up into individual atoms. Maybe try eating some of it instead.”
Molly and Rosie laughed with her