In Name Only (Pine Falls #2) - Jennifer Peel Page 0,68

to change the subject.

I nodded, even though I had probably had too much rest. Still, I was tired. So tired.

Brant kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you later. Call me if you need me.”

I tugged the covers back up and leaned against my headboard. Brock’s gaze was fixed on me. I wondered why he had come in. Was he worried Brant and I would do something stupid? Or was he just worried? Whatever it was, it was unnerving the way his eyes seemed to go through me. I pulled my knees up to my chest. His mouth opened, and I waited anxiously for him to say some magic words that would make it all better. The words didn’t come, but when Brant walked past him, Brock reached out and drew his brother into an embrace.

Brant immediately threw his arms around his brother—his best friend and confidant.

I watched the brothers hold on to each other, tears streaming down my cheeks. It was raw and beautiful. A step toward reconciliation for the two. If there ever was a chance to tangibly touch love, this was it.

After several moments, Brock spoke the magic words. “I love you, brother. I am sorry.”

I placed my hand over my mouth, completely overcome.

Brant must have felt those same overwhelming feelings. He could barely choke out, “I’ve missed you.”

“We need to change that,” Brock responded to Brant before he zeroed in on me. “I need to make several changes.”

I bit my lip. I knew that look. And I wasn’t sure my heart could take it. I didn’t want him to fight for me. Not now. Not after I had given up and had nothing to offer. Didn’t he see it was impossible? We’d missed our chance. We were too broken. And I wasn’t sure a tool existed that could fix how dead I felt inside or how much we had hurt each other.

“I love you,” Brock mouthed.

For the first time, I believed him.

But it was too late.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Wake up, sunshine.” Grandma’s cheery voice hit me like a sledgehammer against my head. What was worse, she tore down the blankets I’d hung up to cover the windows and threw open the shades. She was evil.

I burrowed under the covers, refusing to let the light blind me, or worse, make me feel the slightest bit of the sun’s warmth. Unfairly, Grandma had brought her minions with her—Ariana and Kinsley. They ripped off my blankets and tossed them far from my reach before plopping on my bed. I scrambled for my pillow before they took that, too, and used it to cover my face and shield me from their presence. Unfortunately, the three of them were stronger than me. Lying in bed for days hadn’t done my muscles any good.

With nothing left to hide behind, I was forced to acknowledge their existence, my existence.

Grandma sat on the edge of my bed and caressed my cheek. “Enough, Dani. You can’t live like this forever.”

“I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Grandma chuckled. “You still have some sass; that’s a good thing. Now get up.”

I buried my head in the mattress. “I don’t want to. I’m tired.”

“Of course you are. You’ve been lying in this bed for a week.”

Ariana picked up my mop of hair and let it drop. “I think we could grease all of Kinsley’s bread pans with your hair.”

Everyone snickered, even me.

“Help yourself,” I quipped.

“We’re only here to help you.” Grandma kept it real.

“Well . . . and me,” Kinsley added. “You and Brock are kind of putting a damper on my love life, and . . . I hate to say it, but you stink.”

I pulled out my shirt and took a whiff of myself. I reeked so bad it made me cough. I rolled over and faced them all surrounding me like they were getting ready to either sacrifice me or save me. Hopefully the latter.

I was met by three pairs of anxious eyes, blinking in disbelief at my state. They all smelled and looked too good to be in my presence.

Grandma took my hand and held it tight. “Honey, you aren’t the first woman to lose her baby. Unfortunately, you won’t be the last. Sooner or later you are going to have to cope with the loss and, as hard as it is, accept it. Your baby wouldn’t want this for you.”

Tears leaked out of my eyes. “My baby didn’t even get a chance to live.”

“That is a tragic shame,” Grandma’s voice shook, “but it doesn’t