On Dublin Street (On Dublin Street 1) - Page 81

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, f**kity, shit, f**k.

Clearly Braden had taken the night to let his anger simmer and boil over. I braced myself, trying to be understanding and not hurt him any more than I already had. “She doesn’t have my charity or my guilt.”

“Oh so I was right last night then.” Braden nodded. “Unlike me, she has your love.”

Tags: Samantha Young On Dublin Street Romance
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