36. Brandy

36

Brandy

T wo days after Reed bent me in half on my living room chair, I called my mom.

Texting her didn’t seem safe anymore, knowing that my father was most likely checking her phone. If I had to bet, he most likely wasn’t even trying to hide it, which was why she was barely talking to me. He was controlling, manipulative, and I needed to talk to her if I was ever going to make her see the light in all of this.

When I was young, she was alone through his abuse. What parent wanted to drag their child through the hardships of a relationship, especially when it was physical? She did her best to keep me hidden from the worst of it, but even so, I saw it all. She was my best friend before anything, and I couldn’t let her be treated like this any longer. I wouldn’t let her be alone through this again.

The thought of friends hit me like a rock to the chest, knowing I’d neglected Lettie the past few weeks. She’d just married the man who’d been pining after her for years, so giving her space was the nice thing to do, but with all of the drama with my father being back in town, and my feelings for Reed demanding to no longer be shoved aside, I’d left little time to spare for Lettie.

As the phone rang on speaker, I pulled up Lettie’s text thread.

Miss you lots

Almost immediately, her response came through.

Lettie I miss you more

Lunch tomorrow, maybe?

She reacted to my text with a heart before replying.

Lettie Coffee at Triple B?

Bell Buckle Brews was our favorite coffee shop in town. She knew I’d never pass up the opportunity to grab a drink and some food there.

Meet you there at noon

She sent another heart as my mom picked up the phone right when I thought it’d go to voicemail.

“Brandy?” Her voice was soft, almost like she was trying to keep quiet.

“Don’t sound so surprised to hear from me.” I attempted to joke with her, but it fell flat as she let out a small sigh into the phone.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I shook my head, staring out the front window of my Bronco at the field in front of me. I was already dressed and ready to meet her somewhere if she was free.

“Of course, I am. I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” I said hesitantly, testing to see if he was listening in the background.

She was quiet a moment before saying, “I’m okay, honey—”

“About a boy,” I cut her off, knowing she’d automatically jump to me checking in on her. Using my new relationship with Reed as an excuse to see her alone worked perfectly in my favor. “Can I see you?”

She let out a small chuckle before it dropped off.

Before she could reply, I said, “Please. Maybe at the diner?”

Silence filled the cab, not a sound coming from the other end of the phone. My knee started bouncing on its own, anxiety blowing up like a balloon in my ribs.

All of a sudden, faint static filled the line. The telltale sign that she’d had it muted. “I can do that. When?”

“Now?”

She inhaled, likely weighing her options here. If he was there listening, she was probably waiting to see his answer. He hopefully wouldn’t care about boy talk, and he couldn’t keep her away from me forever. At some point, he had to loosen the leash.

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.”

“Sounds good. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too.”

I hung up the phone, hoping like hell he didn’t tag along. If I didn’t talk to her about this now, I feared she’d be stuck forever.

And I couldn’t let that happen again.

***

My mom slid into the booth across from me, setting her purse on the seat next to her. Her brunette hair hung in her face, more so on the left side, and when she lifted her head and tucked her hair behind her ear out of habit, my jaw dropped.

“Mom,” I started.

“Hi,” she said, thinking I was greeting her.

No, I was fucking shell-shocked over the bruise under her left eye, making her hazel eyes appear more gold than usual. It was obvious she had tried to cover it up with concealer, but she’d always been bad with makeup. She’d gotten better with it the more she had to hide, but it was clear she was out of practice from the years of him being gone.

I shook my head. No one should have to practice how to cover up a fucking bruise with drugstore concealer.

“Did he do that to you?” I asked, all emotion gone from my words. I felt like a robot, seeing only red through my lens and knowing exactly who my fucking target was.

“Do what?”

She was seriously acting oblivious ?

I shook my head again. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve never been good at hiding them.”

Them . Because for her, it wasn’t just once. Or twice. It was dozens and dozens of hits she had to get creative with covering up. Wearing long sleeves in the summer or sunglasses indoors on a cloudy day.

“Brandy—”

I held up my hand to stop her. “You don’t have to try to make up some bullshit excuse.”

Her eyes fell to the table, neither of us having opened our menus. I didn’t think I could eat even if I forced myself to. I loved my mom—loved her so damn much that I’d do anything for her. If she wouldn’t fight her demons, then I’d have to for her. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Can we not talk about it? Please?” Her plea came out in a whisper, and it nearly tore my heart in half.

My shoulders fell as a long breath escaped me, tension aching to leave my body but having no desire to let it until I made him feel even half as bad as he made her feel.

“Okay,” I seceded, not wanting to make her feel any worse. If an hour of lunch with her daughter would brighten her day in the least amount, I’d set aside everything to make her smile.

Thankfully, it’d be much easier without my father here.

“So, you’re seeing someone?” she asked, her attention focused on me.

I opened my menu, needing to do something with my hands. She was the first person I was really telling about Reed, and even though she was my mom, it wasn’t making this any easier.

My feelings were kept tightly locked behind an impenetrable wall for a reason, and admitting I’d opened my heart to Reed felt like giving someone ammo to hurt me, even if I knew my mom would never do that to me. My entire life, I didn’t have a father I could go to when I got hurt, or wanted to cry, or to tell him how my day was. Instead, I hid from him, never showing when I had a good or bad day. For my mom, I was an open book, and after he left, I felt more safe to be myself in that house, but now that he was back, my body was acting on instinct, wanting to reconstruct those walls even higher so the brunt of his fist couldn’t tear my happiness to dust.

“I am.” I couldn’t help the smile that formed with the admission.

A glance at my mom showed she was mirroring my look. “Well”—she waved her hands in front of her—“tell me about him.”

My teeth dug into my bottom lip as my eyes scanned the menu, not really seeing any of the words. “You sort of already know him.”

A crease formed in the center of her forehead. “Who is it?”

I sucked on my lip before setting the menu down and forcing my hands into a ball on my lap. “Reed Bronson.”

Her eyes went wide, her mouth parting in surprise. She blinked, almost like her thoughts were stuttering, trying to process whose name I’d just said.

“Reed. Charlotte and Travis’s boy?”

“He’s not so much a boy anymore, but yeah.”

Her gaze moved to the table, her mind spinning behind her eyes, before she looked at me again. “But you hate him.”

“It’s…complicated.” I had no idea where to start. How to explain that between the trip to Salt Lake City, the wedding, and every moment since then, my eyes were opened to a new side of Reed. One I’d come to love. Hell, I think I loved him all along, having always seen parts of him he didn’t let anyone else catch even the slightest glimpse of. In a way, our feud opened us up to sides of each other most didn’t see for years into a relationship. Even through the bickering and his overprotectiveness, he grew on me.

“I guess you’ve always had issues with men for a reason,” she mumbled as she finally picked up her menu.

Her comment struck me. “What?”

She glanced up at me, doing a double take as she saw the look on my face. “I’m just saying, you never had a great father figure growing up, and that probably explains why you’ve never stayed with any guy.”

My brows pulled together. “Are you saying I’ve butted heads with Reed because of dad? Or that you just figured none of my relationships would work out because you allowed him to be the man I had to look up to?”

She laid her menu on the table. “Brandy, that’s not what I mean. Don’t get defensive.”

“I have every right to be defensive because you’re right. Dad is the reason Reed and I hated each other for so long.”

That spot on her forehead deepened. “What do you mean?”

“I went to a party one night because I was so tired of the yelling. How you’d let him treat us like shit and then turn around and make him dinner like nothing was wrong.”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t explain your problem with Reed.”

“A guy tried to sexually assault me that night. Hell, he probably would have raped me if given the chance, but Reed showed up.”

Her expression softened at my words, but I wasn’t done. “Honey—”

“No,” I interrupted. “Reed nearly beat a guy to death because I went to a party alone to escape the home you raised me in. You were supposed to keep me safe.” My voice broke on the last word, tears pooling in my eyes.

She sucked in a shaky breath, her own eyes glassy from the tears she held back.

I’d held those words in for seven years, wanting so badly to tell her about that night but knowing it’d be no use. My dad was still in our lives, still tormenting our home, and she wouldn’t have done anything about it. She’d have comforted me as a mother, held me while I cried, but she wouldn’t have kicked him out. In the end, it wasn’t really his fault how that night went. I’d shown up to that party on my own, decided to go up to that room with that guy, and I’d had to pay the mental price for it for over half a decade.

I was done letting that night hold me back.

She deserved to know all of this, whether it hurt her or not, because it was ruining me trying to protect her feelings. She was supposed to be protecting mine, and yet—

“I didn’t know,” she whispered, and the hurt in her voice killed me. This was why I’d kept it inside. I didn’t want to hear anyone else devastated over me. Feel sorry for me.

But it was time. I was so tired of hurting.

“Of course, you didn’t know. You were too busy catering to that monster instead of the daughter who loved you despite the circumstances. I could have left, run away or lived with the Bronsons like they offered so many times, but I stayed because I love you, Mom. I couldn’t abandon you to that man, but I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

She nodded, her eyes falling to the table as a tear streaked through the caked concealer, revealing the deeper blue of her bruise. “I’m sorry.”

With a sniffle, I slid out of the booth, my appetite and ability to sit through this completely gone. “I know. And I’m sorry, too. But I have to choose me, in a healthy way this time. I will always be there for you, no matter what. You’re my mom.”

She looked up at me, so much sadness in her gaze. “I know. It’s not fair to you. I understand.”

I wanted to hug her, to take back every word, but this had to be done. I shouldn’t have daddy issues or trauma from attempted sexual assault. I shouldn’t have to deal with any of it. So I was choosing to work through it, and if that meant giving my mother the wake-up call she needed, I had to do it.

None of this was okay.

“I love you, but I have to go,” I said, trying to swallow the rock in my throat.

She nodded, more tears falling as she looked back down at the table.

Then I left her sitting there, walking out of the diner as regret sat heavy on my shoulders.

But it didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

Because the words that weighed me down for seven years were voiced, and while it hurt, it was progress.

Didn’t matter how long it took to get here.

It just mattered that I did it, and kept my heart intact while I did.