The Love Game (The Game #1)(51)
Author: Emma Hart

“Dad?”

“Maddie?”

I shut the door, stand my suitcase against the wall and take off my coat. Walking into the peach-colored front room, Mom’s haven, I find Dad sitting in her chair in the corner. His hair is a little grayer, his cheeks more sunken, and his eyes a little duller than when I left – but he’s still alive. Just.

He’s holding on, barely, living every day without the person he thought he’d spend his whole life with.

I touch my lips to his cheek and take his hand. “How are you?”

“Better for seeing you, Maddie.” He smiles. There’s a little light in his eye that lets me know it’s true. “But what are you doing here?”

“I missed you, of course.”

“You don’t have time off yet.”

I shrug a shoulder and look down. “I just wanted to see my Daddy.”

Gently, he pats the top of my hand. “Well, okay, sweetie. How about you go ahead and pop that kettle on?”

“Sure.” I stand and enter the white and red kitchen. There’s a few dishes by the sink, only a day old, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. He’s eating. “Do you need your tablets soon?”

I bustle around the cupboards and pull out my Piglet mug, giving Dad’s a quick rinse under the tap.

“Please,” he replies.

I make two teas – no matter what he protests, he’s not having coffee at two a.m. – and take them into the front room, handing him his pills. He takes them without complaint.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be up,” I say as I look out of the window.

“Just as I wasn’t expecting my daughter to arrive in the dead of night.”

I look at him, and he raises an eyebrow. I nod slightly. “All right, old man. You win.”

“I’m not asleep because the new tablets Doc gave me have a couple side effects, insomnia being one, but you?” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe my daughter missed me enough that she’d turn up in the place of her nightmares at 2 a.m.”

I smile sadly, still focusing out the window.

“So what brings you here, Maddie? Your old man isn’t stupid.”

“Y’know what, Dad? I’m really tired.” I drink the last of my hot tea, stand, and stretch. “I think I’ll head on up to bed. You try and get some sleep, okay? Goodnight.”

I kiss his forehead and leave the room. I bump my suitcase up the stairs and push open the door to my room. The white and pink room is untouched. I shut the door and after changing into some pajamas I left behind, I climb into bed, sinking into the rose-smelling fabric.

He still uses her favorite softener.

My phone vibrates from its position on my nightstand, and I grab it. Megan’s name is on the screen.

Where are u? Everyone’s trying 2 find u. Bray’s going crazy.

I bite my lip.

I’m in Brooklyn. I caught the next flight out. I needed to get away. I’m sorry. Don’t worry xo

She responds immediately.

Shit the bed, Mads! Brooklyn? When will u be back? Xo

I’m not sure. Night, Megs xo

I turn the cell off and put it face-down, pulling my covers up to my chin.

Why would Braden be going crazy? It’s painfully obvious he doesn’t care about anything other than sex.

I choose to block all the memories away in a box and close my eyes, a single tear slipping out and falling onto the pillow.

~

I wake to a silent house. Well, an almost silent house. I open my bedroom door, and I can hear light snoring coming from Dad’s room – no surprise there.

I pull my old robe tighter around me and silently pad down the old wooden stairs. Somehow, they never creak. I’d asked Mom about it once, and she said the fairies had come in as a favor and magicked them to silence. She’d apparently left a chocolate cake at the bottom of the garden in thanks.

I was seven, so I believed it. I also searched relentlessly for said fairies for the next six months. Unsurprisingly, I never found them.

In the light of day, in the old kitchen, the temperature difference suddenly hits me, and I shiver, making a beeline for the kettle in the corner. As it boils, I look out at the garden and the weaker winter sun shining on it.

Memories crash into me with the force of a tidal wave. They flit through my mind one at a time in quick succession. So quick I forget to breathe. I see Mom and Abbi…. Pearce and Dad…. Smiles…. The princess party I had when I was six…. The flowers Mom and I planted when I was ten…. The rose bushes Dad put in, saying ‘two rose bushes for my two beautiful girls’…. Everything….

I hold onto the counter and press my temple with my other hand. Tears stream from my eyes, and I try to breathe deeply, to control it, the overwhelming feeling of loss sweeping through my body. It rises higher and higher until I feel choked. More recent memories flash in my mind…. And there’s one constant. Always one thing, just the one thing I see.

Electric blue eyes. Braden.

I give in to the pain. I let myself let it go, and I slide down the cupboard to the old, stone floor as the kettle reaches its bubbling crescendo.

Brooklyn…. California…. The pain is always there.

Chapter Forty-Two – Braden

“Brooklyn? She’s in f**king Brooklyn?” I yell at Megan and kick the bar in the kitchen. “Why is she there?”

“Because she doesn’t want to be here,” she replies simply, sipping a lemonade.

“Have a f**king point for your smart-ass board, Megan,” I reply. “How are you so calm? She’s in f**king Brooklyn!”

“I know where she is. She’s at her Dad’s, and she’s safe. She needs to-”

“Don’t you f**kin’ dare tell me she needs to calm down! You told me that last night, and now she’s not even here! If you’d just let me go after her-”

“You would have done something stupid, like pin her against a wall and force her to listen to you.” Megan looks at me pointedly.

“Well,” I say uncomfortably. “It wouldn’t be unrealistic to say I’d do that.”

“Thank you.”

“But that’s not the point,” I protest. “The point is, she’s in Brooklyn. I’m in f**king California. How am I supposed to tell her the truth?”

“Which is what?”

“You know, Megan. Don’t treat me like a fool.”

“Y’know what, Bray?” Her blue eyes are clear, and there’s a hint of ice in them. “I don’t know, because you’ve never actually been truthful when you’ve told me how you feel about her. You’ve fed me bullshit, and now? I still don’t know. I know what I see, not what actually is.”

I sigh and sink onto the stool next to her, resting my elbows on the bar top and putting my head in my hands.