The longer he remains mute, the more my anxiety ratchets up until it’s excruciating. Until it feels like I might splinter apart at any moment. By the time he finally breaks his silence, my nerves have been stretched so tight that they’re precariously close to snapping.
“I never expected any of this.” Each syllable that falls from his mouth sounds like a struggle. As if he’s thinking about every single one before allowing it to escape into the atmosphere.
Since I’m uncertain as to exactly what he’s referring to, I press my lips together until they feel bloodless and wait for him to continue. My heartbeat feels like the crash of the ocean filling my ears.
His gaze lifts, impaling mine with his dark depths. There’s so much turbulent emotion swirling through them that it’s almost enough to bring me to my knees.
“I never expected to fall in love with you, Sydney.”
Air gets wedged in my throat, making it impossible to breathe.
“If I’m being brutally honest, I’ve liked you for a while. We didn’t really know each other but there was always something about you that caught my interest. It was more than your looks. It was just,” he jerks his shoulders as if unsure how to explain himself, “you. Your personality. Your drive and determination. Your confidence and athleticism.” The corners of his lips lift marginally. By no means is it a full-blown Brayden Kendricks smile. “You can be a real wildcard, and I like that. You’re not afraid of anything or anyone.”
His words catch me off guard as everything inside lifts, cautiously filling with hope.
“The more I got to know you, the more time I wanted to spend with you. You have this irrepressible energy that I find addictive. After you took me home to meet your family, I saw a different side of you. It gave me more insight to your personality and what shaped you into the woman you are today. I understand why you stick up for your friends and don’t take shit from anyone. That afternoon only made me fall harder.” His voice drops away for an agonizing handful of moments. “I honestly didn’t think there was anything that could change the way I felt about you.”
All of the hope that had been cautiously rising within me crashes to the ground before bursting into flames. It’s so painful and unexpected that it nearly steals my breath away.
Brayden’s gaze skitters from mine before landing on a framed photograph on my nightstand. His body stills as he sucks in a sharp breath before reaching for it.
I take a cautious step toward him. “Brayden, don’t,” I whisper brokenly as he stares at the picture. The last thing I want to do is cause any more despair. He’s been through more than enough at our hands. We need to end this now before more damage can be wreaked.
“Is this him?” His attention remains fixated on the photo.
I nod before forcing myself to respond. “Yes.”
It’s one that was snapped of us five years before he died. He’s dressed in his high school soccer uniform and I’m wearing a travel team jersey. His arm is slung around my shoulders and we’re both beaming at the camera as if we don’t have a care in the world. I suppose, at that particular moment in time, we didn’t. It’s crazy how life can change in the blink of an eye, never to be the same again.
Our brightly shining happiness is a painful reminder of that reality.
“You look like him,” he murmurs, gaze pinned to the picture in his hands.
My heart feels like it’s going to thump right out of my chest. This moment feels especially raw and painful. And there’s nothing that can be done to soften it.
Peter and I were both tall with blond hair and vivid, green-colored eyes. Our personalities were similar, and we were both athletic. Always moving. We liked to laugh and have a good time and were equally protective of Lucus. At the beginning of each new school year, he would remind me that it was my responsibility to watch out for our brother. It never felt like a burden. I was happy to do it.
Brayden and I fall into another suffocating silence as he stares at the photograph. I’m tempted to close the distance between us and rip the silver frame from his hands. But I don’t. My legs are paralyzed, refusing to obey the orders of my brain. The only thing I’m capable of doing is watching the pain as it flickers across his face.
“I’m sorry that Peter took your father away,” I force myself to say. Hot tears sting my eyes, clouding my vision. “I loved my brother more than anything, but I hate him for what he did.”
When Brayden wrenches his head up, I see the wetness shining in his own eyes. Carefully, he sets the photograph where he found it before quickly rising to his feet. It only takes three long-legged strides for him to swallow up the space that separates us. My breath catches as he wraps his fingers around my arms and tugs me to him. The moment my cheek makes contact with his chest, the floodgates open, and my heartache pours out in a burst of pent-up emotion. His arms tighten around me as if he’s holding on for dear life.