Every Day (Brush of Love 2)

“Oh my gosh,” I said breathlessly. “John.”

Bryan’s arm snaked around me, holding me tightly as we both shook together. The sheer willpower it took for Bryan to stand here was unmistakable, but I was experiencing something different.

I felt as if I were tethered, unable to move even if I wanted to.

I gazed down at the green and brown grass that covered his grave. I took in the dates of his birth and death, swallowing deeply when I realized he had only been twenty-five. The man who had saved my life, who had chased those thugs away and wrenched that man’s grasp from my throat, had only been twenty-five years old.

My tears began pouring down my cheeks as I clung to his brother standing next to me.

“John,” Bryan said. “I know it’s been a long time since I’ve stood here, and I hope you can forgive me for that. I brought someone I thought you might want to see. Do you remember Hailey?”

I looked up at Bryan as my jaw began to tremble. He was stoic, blank like he’d retreated into himself just to process the encounter taking place. His hand removed my grip from around his waist before our fingers interlocked, and then he brought my hand to his lips to kiss.

“I fell in love with the woman you saved, and I owe all of what we have to your bravery.”

I drew in a shaking breath as tears finally rose to Bryan’s eyes. His lips peppered my hands with his kisses, his warmth trying hard to drown out the cold and the dark that was pouring over our little corner of the world. The hurt and anger and depression he’d dealt with for years were slowly bubbling to the top, and when his knees gave out from underneath him, I tried my best to catch him in my arms.

“Steady,” I said lightly. “Just take deep breaths.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bryan said. “I’m so sorry for what you went through, John. I’m sorry for not understanding. I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. I’m sorry for yelling at you, yelling the things I did the last time we talked.”

I pressed my lips to Bryan’s cheek as he finally got his feet underneath him.

“I’m trying to make the world a better place for you and for your memory that follows me around everywhere. I started helping the homeless community after you passed. You know, getting them off the street and cleaning them up. Giving them a job. Throwing a rope to those who need it and want it. I see you in them. I look in their eyes and see yours staring back at me. Every single person on a corner I pass, I envision the family that must miss them and love them, the family that must want to help them but has no idea how. Like I did. Like I loved you and cherished you but had no idea how to help you.”

Tears started dripping down Bryan’s face while I rubbed his back. I felt compelled to say something and fill the silent while Bryan collected himself.

So, I decided to talk about how John had influenced me as well.

“John,” I said as Bryan turned his gaze toward me, “your brother isn’t alone in that category, you know. Since you saved me, I’ve moved to San Diego. You talked so much about how beautiful it was and how their art community was so inspiring to you, I couldn’t help but check it out. I didn’t plan on rooting myself here, but I found this wonderful little place to open an art gallery. I think you’d love it.”

Bryan’s arms held me close to him, his body scooting behind mine as he pressed his strong chest to the back of my head.

“I came to San Diego to honor you and experience the beauty you talked about, and instead, I found your brother. I fell in love with him, and the heart he had, and even though we experienced some turbulence, we have seemed to find one another again. And I have you to thank for that. You’ve bound us in a way that neither of us understood until a few days ago. I still do my art therapy classes in my gallery, but I’ve added some children’s components too. The community loves it. It makes me feel like there’s a part of you still with me.”

My breaths hiccup in my chest before Bryan planted his lips into the crook of my neck. He began to sway my body while tears dripped down my neck, the cold air picking up and swirling around us. We shivered in the autumn cold while we stood by John’s grave, the leaves rustling in the distance as it backdropped our sorrow.

“I want to showcase your paintings, John,” I said. “I want to put them up in my gallery. Bryan wants to throw a formal nighttime gallery for the community to introduce them to the world, and I think it’s a fabulous idea. Your paintings are so beautiful and so dynamic and so full of life and emotion, they deserve to see the light of day. I think ...”

I chose my words carefully before I completed my thought.

“I think it would bring the type of beauty into the world you wanted so desperately to leave behind in your wake.”

Just then, the wind almost knocked us off our feet. Bryan steadied me while he tried to catch his balance and the air current whipped around so hard it ripped the leaves off the trees. They swirled around our feet, the cold making us shiver while we looked wildly at each other. When we craned our necks to look up at the sky, we saw the sun was still shining.

There were no clouds in sight despite the furious wind whipping around our bodies.

But then, an animal walked out of the woods, a fox with its long tail and its stern gaze. It stared at us for quite some time, simply standing there while Bryan’s grasp on me tightened more and more. The wind soon fell into the background while the fox’s tail started wrapping around its body, and that’s when Bryan noticed it

The fox’s brown eyes.

“I thought foxes had blue eyes?” he asked.

“Or green,” I said. “But not brown.”

We watched it as it stood, still as a statue at the edge of the woods. I felt Bryan’s breathing quicken while my hands ran up and down his forearm, trying to comfort him while my thoughts ran wildly in my head.

I wasn’t an expert on foxes or anything, but something told me this wasn’t any old fox.