Shameless(84)

Clearing my throat, I force the words out. “Don’t you think you should reconsider? That kind of career is a lot to give up.”

There’s a flash of emotion in her eyes, but then it’s gone, and in its place is a cold detachment. For one long, brutal moment, she gives me that blank stare. “You know, Brady, maybe you should take that offer on the farm.”

And then she scoots her chair back, dumps out her coffee in the sink, and heads to her room, leaving me gutted when she says she’s packing.

Goddamn it.

My head hangs forward as I listen to her belongings thump around in the other room. So this is how it ends.

And it kills me.

Because I hadn’t thought that her taking the job meant we were over exactly. I think some small part of me was hoping we might be able to work things out. Are these two mutually exclusive, her job offer and our relationship?

I think about my parents and the responsibilities I have back East. About needing to raise Izzy. About the million bills sitting on the counter over there. About my nearly empty bank account.

Do I want to drag her down with me? Because that’s what this feels like right now. Like drowning. Because even with the farm’s side business and bath products, we won’t stay afloat, not with the bills I have coming in from Boston.

What do she and I have if I sell the farm?

As I mull over my choices, I know fighting for her when she has so much of her future on the line is selfish. And I won’t be the prick who drags her down when I have nothing left to offer her.





55





Katherine





What have I done?

I close the door to my room and lean my head against the frame, wishing I could take back the last ten minutes of my life.

But would I say anything else? Would this moment be any different if I told him I loved him? If I told him this was killing me?

I didn’t mean to tell him to sell the farm. The words rushed out of me before I could stop them. I was pissed and emotional and hurt, but when Brady didn’t blink an eye at my words, I felt heartbroken.

Of course he wants to sell. Of course he wants to get back to his life in Boston. Who stays in a small Texas town because of a girl?

He must not have heard Eric last night. I know Brady well enough to know he’d never take that *’s money.

As much as I want to tell Brady that Eric’s behind the offer, I know that selling would help Brady and his family. Where the money comes from doesn’t matter.

And Eric is crazy if he thinks I’m coming back here once this place is his.

Reaching for my duffle bag in the closet, I toss it on the floor before I reach for my clothes. I don’t have much. Jeans and t-shirts. A few flannels. My boots. One pair of pumps.

One item remains on a hanger. That black dress. The only nice outfit I own.

My fingers run along the silky soft fabric.

I won’t bring it, I decide. It reminds me of the funerals and that night with Brady.

Maybe I should have known all along that any relationship that starts steeped in death is doomed to fail.

I wipe my eyes, and before I can think too much more about what I’m doing, I grab my laptop and tuck it into my bag. Then I reach for my notebook and scribble out the note before I totally lose it.

As I head for the door, I toss the bag over my shoulder and grab my binder, the one with all of the recipes and scent combinations.

My heart is in my throat when I step into the kitchen. Brady’s feeding Izzy, and her beautiful little face grins at me, sending the knife a little deeper.

How did I ever think I loved my ex? This. Brady and Izzy. These are the people I love.

I swallow. Hard. It’s tough to keep my act together, but I will the tears back.

Leaning over, I stick my nose in her soft hair. “Love you, baby. So much.” I touch her cheek, overwhelmed by loss. Of Cal and Melissa and my sweet, darling Izzy. I hope she remembers me. When she's in Boston and in bed at night and wondering what life must have been like with her parents, I hope she remembers that so many people love her.

I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry I let your parents down. Images from that night flash behind my eyes. The way the barn door banged open in the rain. The dark expanse of night, so dark, I couldn’t see the stars. How I couldn’t scream their names loud enough when I saw their truck underwater.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions at bay.

“Kat.”

I ignore him and place the binder on the table. My voice is thick, but I can’t help it. “You’re gonna need this. It has every recipe. Every combination of scents. It’s alphabetized. The vials in my bedroom are all labeled too, so you should be able to figure it out.”

“Kat—”

“If you have any trouble, email me, and I’ll try to explain.”

“Katherine.”

I shake my head and sniffle. “But please don’t call. I don’t think I can handle talking to you right now.”

He suddenly stands and pulls me to him, and I bury my face in his chest.

I love you.

The words echo through me as I cling to his t-shirt, but I clench my jaw to prevent those words from slipping.

“Don’t go,” he whispers, making me tremble.

He doesn’t mean it. He has to sell. His parents need him too. What’s he going to do here? How can he afford to stay?