Irreversible Damage (Irreparable 2)

My first month in Minnesota flies by without a word from Brady, even after I sent him annulment papers. I know he got them. My attorney advised me that he signed them. He really has moved on with Annabelle and Andrew. The vows we exchanged should have held us together forever, until death do us part and all of that. But as with most words, they’re meaningless unless you’re willing to live by them. Betrayal is far from bad times, sickness, or any of the other things we promised to stand by each other and get through. I will never forgive him. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my conversation with Annabelle and what I saw take place between her and Brady. She knew what she was doing the second she got in contact with him. I’m not sure if I hate myself or Brady more for letting her succeed.

My parent’s house is in Chanhassen, a nice, peaceful suburb of Minnesota, but it’s lonely. Their house is on a large plot of land, a country home so different from the cookie-cutter stucco styles of Southern California, desolate. The first few days here, the quiet nearly broke me.

My worried mother insisted on taking me to a doctor. I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. While the antidepressants the doctor prescribed help tremendously with my erratic and emotional behavior, they’ve done nothing to help heal my broken heart. I suppose there is only one cure for that, and he doesn’t want me.

He has a family.

He’s happier without me.

I registered for classes and got a job at Starbucks. Both of which, I start Monday. My parents have been supportive. I was worried they’d hover, but my dad is busy working, and Mom has more volunteer obligations than she has time for. I’m actually mildly disappointed. I spend most days alone in my room, thinking or sulking or both.

It’s not good. That’s not what I came to Minnesota to do.

Today I plan to get out of the house and start my new life. I get ready and head to the kitchen for breakfast. It’s deserted. I sit at the small computer desk and open my mom’s laptop. I log into my email. I have several unopened emails from Liv, the most recent of which came in last night. I frown, clicking on it. I’ve been a lousy friend.

Okay, you totally suck! I miss you. We all do. Please let me know how you are doing and when I can come visit. In case you’re wondering, Second Chances got signed. You can Google it.

I love you! Xo Liv

I close my email with a sigh. I’m truly happy for Brady and the rest of the guys. They deserve it. I open a Google page and type in Second Chances. There is an article about the band and the label, explaining that they’ll be in the studio for a few months before releasing the album. After that, they’ll head out on tour. I click on the “images” tab, and that’s when my stomach sinks.

Among the pictures of the band are photos of Brady with Annabelle tucked neatly to his side. So much for him fighting for me forever and my heart belonging to him. Actually, my heart does still belong to him, but he obviously doesn’t want it. Annabelle didn’t even wait until I boarded the plane to make her move, and Brady was more than willing. I don’t know what I thought. She gave him a child. I know him well enough to know that’s the reason he’s with her. Out of obligation. It’s an admirable trait, yet equally infuriating.

As I click back to the search page, I spot a link to a video. I click on it. The video takes a few seconds to load. Brady’s in a stool with his guitar in his lap. Chad, Gabe, and Jesse blur into the background. When the sound kicks in, I recognize the music immediately. They’re covering Rihanna’s “Stay.” Brady plays the piano parts on the guitar. The low vibrato of his voice comes out delicate and raspy, as if he’s in pain. It’s just as slow as the original, but even more haunting coming from Brady. He’s changed the words so the entire song is from a guy’s POV. I’m confused. Was this for me? I was going to stay, until I found him banging Annabelle in our spare bedroom. No, it’s not for me. It’s for her. He must want her to stay. Judging from the photos, she said yes.

I slam the laptop closed, agreeing to slam the door on that part of my life as well. I’m strong. I have my entire life ahead of me.

After grabbing a quick bite to eat an

d sucking down a cup of coffee, I head out to my Jeep and remove the top. It’s a beautiful fall day, and I’m determined to enjoy it.

The drive to Lake Minnetonka takes about a half hour. I marvel at the fall foliage as I maneuver the winding road toward the lake. Brilliant hues of amber and crimson, weaving through the greens and yellows, are stunningly beautiful. I hit a few small shops before deciding to eat lunch at Maynard’s. After telling the hostess to seat me outside, I follow her into the sunshine and down the steps to a small table on the second tier of the back deck. It’s times like this when I miss my friends the most. If I were back in Mexico, Liv or Tug would be sitting across from me, making me laugh. The thought makes me feel guilty. I haven’t been in touch with either of them since I got here.

I can’t.

Not yet.

Although I was hesitant to order the fried walleye sandwich and fries, my dad insisted it’s the best think on the menu. As I bite into the sandwich, a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. It’s phenomenally good. I should know better than to ever question my dad when it comes to food. I eat, admiring the canvas in front of me, all the while contemplating what’s next in my life. Before long, I can’t take the solitude any longer and decide it’s time to head home.

After I pay the bill, I stop at the restroom. On my way out, I run into someone’s chest. His familiar scent makes me smile. I look up at a surprised Tug. What is he doing here? My gaze travels to the unfamiliar man standing at his left. As I take in the tall, thin man in a suit, I let out a breath of relief. Tug’s here for business. He’s not here to see me.

“Brian, go ahead to the table,” he tells the guy. “I’ll be there shortly.”

He turns his large brown eyes on me and offers a friendly smile before reaching out to hug me. I hug him back, absorbing the comfort of his embrace. God, I’ve missed him.

I’ve missed all of them.

I pull away, nervously smoothing my hands down my skirt. “What are you doing here?”

I shift on my feet and straighten my hair.

His broad smile fills me with happiness. “We just opened an office here. I’m in town for a few weeks making sure everything gets off the ground.” He pauses, running his eyes over me. “It’s good to see you.”

I smile, gently punching him in the arm. “It’s good to see you, too, Tug.”

He smiles back. It’s a concerned smile, though, one I hate to see. “How are you?”

I shrug. “Good.”