On us.
I was too tired to fight with him anymore. To fight with anyone. Since my arrival in Port Albany, my parents had been surprisingly circumspect. Happy to have me there, fussing over me, but not bringing up the subject of Jaxson, except once.
This morning, my mother found me at the kitchen table, sipping tea and watching the sun come up. She poured herself a cup and sat beside me.
“You’re up early.”
“Still on my usual schedule.”
“Or not sleeping,” she guessed.
I only shrugged.
“Gracie,” she began, covering my hand on the table.
“Don’t,” I pleaded.
She sighed. “All I was going to say is sometimes a person is broken beyond repair.”
“That’s what you think Jaxson is? Broken?”
“He cares. In fact, I think he more than cares, but he has no experience with love. Family. From what he said, and you told me, he has never had either.”
“I know. But he insists we have no future, only a right now.”
“Your father thought the same way once upon a time. Our time together had an expiry date.”
“That was different.”
“In some ways, yes. But I’ve seen the way Jaxson looks at you. The wonder on his face. There is something there, Grace. Something profound.”
“It’s lust,” I stated dryly.
She shook her head, even as she smiled. “I have no doubt there is a lot of that, but there is more. Even your father saw something.”
“Is that why he stopped punching him? If I had known what he had done, I might have let Dad have another shot or two.”
She sipped her tea. “What did he do, Gracie?”
I told her the whole story, and she frowned when I finished.
“His words are at such odds with his reactions. I don’t think he even knows it.” She cupped my cheek. “I’m sorry you went through so much pain, Grace. I wish I had been there for you. I wish you had told me.”
“I’m so confused, Mom. I am so mad at him, yet…”
“You still love him.”
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t. He hurt me. He keeps hurting me.”
“VanRyans love deeply. You are very much your father, so I am not surprised. But you have to make your own decision, Grace. You need to move forward. Only you can decide if that is with Jaxson or not. You have to decide if he is worth the risk of your heart being broken over and again.”
Her words resonated with me. I did have to move forward.
Footsteps made me look up. Addi appeared, carrying a thermos. Her blond hair glinted in the sunlight, and she brushed a kiss to my cheek as she sat down.
“Your mom told me you were out for a walk. She sent me with some hot chocolate.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“Wild guess.” She winked as she unscrewed the lid. “Scene of the crime and all.”
“Jaxson told me you were there. Making out with Brayden.”
“You did some pretty heavy making out yourself.” She frowned. “Only one cup. We share.”
I shrugged and sipped the hot chocolate. My mom made delicious hot chocolate. Deep, rich, and laced with cinnamon. I loved it. I handed the cup back to Addi, who drank it, humming in appreciation.
“You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I meant mentally more than physically.”
“My mom gossiped to you while the chocolate was heating?”
“She didn’t gossip. I asked, she answered. You’re in a right mess, aren’t you? So un-Grace-like.”
I laughed. Addi was always blunt. “Yeah, I really stepped in it this time.”
“For what it’s worth, what I saw on Christmas Day was a man in love. He watched you, Gracie. He couldn’t stop. His heart was in his eyes.”
“Pretty sure that was his dick.”
She threw back her head in laughter. “Listen to you.” She leaned forward. “He loves you.”
“Well, if he does, he can’t say it. I don’t think he ever can. To him, admitting love means admitting he can be hurt. Vulnerable. He will never allow that again. His parents hurt him. The system destroyed him.”
“Put him back together.”
“What if I fail, Addi? If I accept him and we go forth together with no promise of the future, no promise of anything but now. He could walk away and leave me in pieces. Ones I’m not sure I could ever put back together.”
“And what if by showing him you’re there, with him, despite his ridiculous ideas, it pieces him back together and he is able to admit his feelings? That are already there, by the way—” she snorted “—he is just too much of a man to see them.”
“It’s a big if.”
She drained the chocolate and regarded me. “So is every marriage, Grace. Drunk or not, you must have wanted to marry him. Temporary or not, he wanted to marry you. A couple madly in love this year could be divorced by next year. The words ‘I love you’ don’t heal everything. Just ask Uncle Halton.”