On Dublin Street
On Dublin Street (On Dublin Street #1)(41)
Author: Samantha Young
Yes. I’m lying, babe. But I won’t survive you. And worse, you won’t survive me. “I’m not. I don’t love you, and after everything you’ve been through you deserve someone who loves you.”
His arms fell away from me, but not even like he meant to let go. He looked shocked. I think he was in shock. I took the opportunity to step back from him, afraid if I stayed close, I’d eventually let go of my steely resolve and tell him I was such a goddamn liar and I didn’t want him to ever let me go.
But I’d been selfish enough for one day.
“You love me,” he argued, his voice soft, low. “I’ve seen it.”
I gulped and forced myself to meet his eyes. “I care about you, but there’s a big difference.”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything, and then his eyes dulled and he gave me a sharp nod. “Alright then.”
“You’re letting me go?”
He curled his upper lip, his expression painfully bitter as he took a step back from me. “Apparently… I never had a hold of you.” He turned sharply, and without another word began striding down the street into the dark.
Braden never once looked back and that was a good thing.
If he had, he’d have seen Jocelyn Butler crying real tears for the first time in a long time, and he would have known that I’d lied. And lied big. For anyone who saw me, knew they were watching a heart in the process of it breaking.
***
“I don’t think that’s the healthiest thing you’ve ever done, Joss, do you?” Dr. Pritchard asked quietly, her brows drawn together.
“It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“Why do you think that?”
“If I tell Braden the truth, that I love him, he will never back down. He’s tenacious like that. And then he might spend the rest of his life with me.”
“And that would be a bad thing?”
“Well, yeah,” I responded irritably. “Did you not hear what I did to Ellie and him? I am so terrified of losing again that I pull shit like that.”
“Yes, but you’re aware now that that’s what you do. That’s a step in the right direction.”
“No it’s not. I have issues a mile long and I can’t promise that I won’t do that to him, over and over again. That’s not fair to him. Braden’s trust was broken once before by a woman he thought he loved. If I stayed with him and kept pulling that crap, I’d be breaking his trust over and over again. And he doesn’t deserve that.”
Dr. Pritchard cocked her head to the side. “That’s not up to you to decide. Surely that’s up to Braden to decide. And you don’t know for sure if you would keep pulling that crap, as you say. Being with Braden might help you through it. He might help you.”
“It didn’t help. Being with him didn’t help.”
“He talked you into being there for Ellie, and you have been. I’d say he helped.”
Stubborn determination gripped me. “I’m not telling him the truth. What I’m doing is best for him.”
“What I’m trying to say, Joss, is perhaps you should stop being a martyr. Perhaps what Braden thinks is best for him is having you in his life. And perhaps he’s willing to work through your anxiety and deal with your mile-high defenses.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I nodded, my eyes blazed as I tried to lock out the hurtful thought of Braden and me with a future together. “Maybe I am a martyr. And maybe he would. But he deserves better than that struggle. He deserves to be content in his relationship, the way my father was with my mother. And if their love has shown me anything, it’s that Braden’s right. Life is too damn short.”
***
Once the rain starts falling it’s hard to tell it to stop. I guess it stops in its own time. My tears, like the rain, kept falling as I made my way home through blurry vision. In truth it’s difficult to describe a broken heart. All I know is that unimaginable pain centers in your chest and radiates out, this throbbing, sharp ache that causes almost incapacitation. But there’s more than the ache. Denial lodges itself in your throat, and that lump is its own kind of pain. The affliction of heartbreak can also be found in a knot in your stomach. The knot contracts and expands, contracts and expands, until you’re pretty sure you’re not going to be able to hold down the vomit.
I somehow managed to hold onto at least that much of my dignity.
As soon as I got back to the apartment, through the pain of throwing away Braden came the fear. I stared down the hall at Ellie’s bedroom door, and I had to stop myself from going back on my promise not to run from her.
So I did the opposite.
I kicked off my boots, shrugged out of my coat and crept silently into her darkened room. In the moonlight shining through her window, I saw Ellie curled up in a protective ball on her side. I made a move towards her and the floor creaked under my foot, and Ellie’s eyes flew open immediately.
She gazed up at me, wide-eyed but wary.
That hurt.
I started to cry harder and at the sight of my tears, a tear slid down Ellie’s cheek. Without a word, I crawled onto her bed and right up beside her as she turned onto her back. We lay side by side, my head on her shoulder, and I grabbed her hand and held it in both of mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered
“It’s okay,” Ellie’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “You came back.”
And because life was too short… “I love you, Ellie Carmichael. You’re going to get through this.”
I heard her breath hitch on a sob. “I love you too, Joss.”
~22~
That’s how Braden found us the next day—lying with our heads tucked into one another, holding hands, sleeping with dirty, tear-stained cheeks like two little girls.
He didn’t wake me. In fact he didn’t even look at me.
I woke up because he was shaking Ellie awake.
“What time is it?” I heard her ask sleepily.
“It’s past noon. I’ve made you some lunch.” The sound of his voice might as well have been a fist punching through my chest. My eyes opened with difficulty, crusty from the salt of my dried tears, and swollen from the worst crying jag I’d had since losing Dru. Braden was bending over Ellie, brushing her hair back, his eyes bright with love. They were also still bloodshot and he had dark circles underneath them.
He looked like hell.
I would still bet I looked worse.
“I’m not hungry,” Ellie whispered.
Braden shook his head, his expression all no-nonsense. “You need to eat. Come on, sweetheart, time to get up.”
I watched as Ellie took his large hand and he pulled her gently up off the bed and onto her feet. Still holding onto her, he led her out, her linen pants wrinkled to the max, her shirt twisted around her body, and her hair a wild mess. She looked like someone whose life had just been upended. I hurt so badly for her. I couldn’t even look at Braden, because the pain I felt for him was indescribable.
“Joss, you coming?” Ellie looked back over her shoulder at me.
And for her, I nodded. Even though I didn’t want to be anywhere near Braden.
You know what was worse? He couldn’t even be outright petty about the breakup. Sure, he couldn’t look at me and wouldn’t talk to me, but… he’d made my damn lunch too.
Ellie and I sat at the kitchen table eating the tasty scrambled eggs and toast while Braden stood leaning against the counter sipping coffee. Ellie didn’t notice the quiet between us at first because she was stuck inside her own head, and silence at this point didn’t seem unusual.
I’ll tell you how unselfish that girl is: with everything she was going through she noticed what was going on with her brother and me. And a lot sooner than I’d expected her to. It was our fault—we weren’t exactly subtle about it. I got up to put my plate and mug in the sink and Braden moved to the other side of the room. I then moved to the other side of the room to get some orange juice out of the fridge and Braden moved back to the sink. I moved near the sink to get a glass out of the cupboard and Braden moved back to the fridge. I moved to the fridge to put the juice back and he moved back to the sink.
“What’s going on?” Ellie asked softly, her brows drawn together as she watched us.
We mumbled a couple of ‘nothings’ back at her.
“Guys?” Ellie looked paralyzed. “Did the doctor call?”
Our heads jerked over to her and immediate remorse settled over us. “No.” Braden shook his head. “No, Els. We’ve got the appointment with Dr. Dunham later this afternoon, just as planned.”
“Then why are you two acting strangely?”
We stared at her impassively, but one of us gave something away, something big, because after a minute of searching our faces, Ellie’s fell. “You broke up.”
Braden ignored her. “Els, you should get in the shower, brighten yourself up a bit. You’ll feel better.”
“Because of me?” Ellie stood up, her eyes round. “You broke up because of me.”
I chanced a look at Braden but he was staring solemnly at Ellie. Like me, he hadn’t wanted to add any more weight to her shoulders. I turned back to her. “No, Ellie. Not because of you. This had nothing to do with you and it’s done. We’re okay. Don’t worry about us. We’re getting you through this minus drama.”
Her expression hardened, her chin jutting out mulishly. “You’re clearly not talking to each other, though. What happened?”
Braden sighed. “She doesn’t love me and I think she’s an untrustworthy, cold bitch. Now get in the shower.”
Since he wasn’t facing me I didn’t bother to mask the pain I felt at his words. Untrustworthy cold bitch. Untrustworthy. Cold. Bitch. Cold. Bitch. Bitch. BITCH.
I also forgot that Ellie could see me and her eyes turned dark with sympathy.
“Braden,” she whispered, soft admonishment in it.
“Shower. Now.”
Her eyes came back to me, worried. I couldn’t believe she was worried about me at a time like this. “Ellie, shower.”
“You’re worse than my parents,” she murmured humorlessly, but deciding she’d rather not face off with two of the most tenacious people she knew, she headed out of the kitchen leaving us alone in a thick, awful silence.
Finally Braden spoke, “You left some of your shit at my place. I’ll drop it off this week.”
He had stuff in my room too. “I’ll get your things together for you.”
It should be noted that at this point we were leaning against opposite ends of the kitchen counter, talking to the wall in front of us and not at each other.
Braden cleared his throat, “You came back for her?” Was that hope in his voice?
“Well, sometimes untrustworthy, cold bitches keep their word,” I answered stiffly, taking a sip of my juice.
Braden grunted and slammed his mug down on the counter. “She doesn’t need your charity or your f**king guilt.”
Fuck.
Shit, fuckity, shit, fuck.