That wasn’t the sound of them being okay. That was the sound of nails being driven into a coffin. “I don’t believe that. And it’s my choice whether to risk it or not.” The emotion of what she saw, her memories springing back to life, had her overreacting. She would be fine. They would be fine.
But she shook her head. “You didn’t want any of this. It was me who talked you into an affair even after you said it wasn’t a good idea. It’s ironic, really. We both thought the biggest obstacle to our relationship was that I lived here and you lived in Chicago. That was never it at all. It’s that we’re both afraid and I still am. I . . . I did something I shouldn’t have.”
“No, you didn’t.” Brady wanted to shake her. This wasn’t the Piper he knew. This was defeatist and resigned and he didn’t like it.
“I did. I told you I was going to send that picture of the portrait of me to Amanda’s cousin Stuart in New York at the art gallery, but I didn’t. I put it off because I was worried that if you had some success, you’d want to move to New York.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I was afraid you’d leave me, but that was such an awful thing to do, to hold down your dream.”
Brady was stunned. It was an awful thing to do. He never would have thought her capable of such a thing.
“You deserve better than me.” She paused, like she was waiting for him to argue with her, but Brady was so freaking stunned he couldn’t think of a single word to say.
So she pulled her hand from his, walked into the house, and closed him out.
Brady stared out into the darkness for a minute, then stood up. There was nothing here for him.
Which made it horribly ironic that he was driving a truck full of all his worldly possessions. One of which was a ring he’d been planning to use to propose to her with.
* * *
PIPER WATCHED BRADY DRIVE AWAY, KICKING HIS truck tire first before he got in and started the engine. She had closed the door, gone into the dining room, and watched him, needing to see him leave. It hadn’t been her intention to go out there and make him feel bad, but she was starting to realize that she hadn’t been fair to Brady all along. She had asked things of him that were unrealistic, like moving back to Cuttersville, living her dream in the house on Swallow, not his dream. It seemed so obvious now, and she’d be right to feel insecure. How long would it be before he resented being stuck in a small town with her?
How long before she wasn’t interesting enough for him?
Granted, it had been his idea to stay in Cuttersville, but that was because she’d made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere. She had made it clear she wasn’t going to see him or sleep with him anymore because her parents didn’t approve. So this was her fault, and she felt regret grip her like the flu.
It didn’t make sense to keep going down a path that would leave them both hurt. It was a path they should never have even stepped onto.
“Are you okay?” Amanda asked her from the stairs.
Piper shook her head, still watching the truck recede into the night. “No. I just shoved the man I love away from me because I’m afraid of being abandoned.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m like a textbook case of kids who were dumped by their parents.”
Amanda came down the steps. “Well, nine out of ten kids are going to carry insecurities because of that. Odds were you weren’t going to be the lucky one, but I am really sorry to hear that.”
“I thought I was over all that. I’ve had a loving life. You and Dad are the best parents I could ask for.” Piper leaned on the window glass, feeling very small and sad and ungrateful.
“So on the other hand, maybe you’re using that as an excuse. Most people have a moment of panic when they realize they’re in love. Maybe you’re being too hard on yourself and it’s just your knee-jerk reaction to shove him away because it’s scary to think that someone owns that much of your emotion. It could have nothing to do with your childhood.”
“I don’t know.” When she had been little, her imaginary friend, Anita, had made all their decisions, had all the answers, never showed fear.
She wasn’t a little girl anymore, and there was no Anita.
But that little girl was still part of her, and maybe for the first time, she really understood that she needed to respect her, not ignore her.
“I’m going to go back to my place,” she told her mother. “There are some things I need to do.”
Alone in her rental house an hour later, she had e-mailed a digital file of the portrait Brady had painted to Stuart in New York. She had e-mailed Bree for an appointment, not to have her tarot read but to ask her how to communicate better with the spirits who appeared to her. She searched her insurance for a therapist who dealt with childhood abuse, just to talk her situation through with a professional. She made a note to call the salon to get her hair trimmed. Two inches. She could manage two inches for starters.
Wandering around her house, she marveled that she and Brady had made it a home in such a short amount of time. His clothes were in the bedroom, his toothbrush on the counter, his laptop on the kitchen table. They’d painted, hung photos, put down area rugs. The wicker furniture her parents despised fit perfectly in this tiny cottage and her bed was snug inside their bedroom.
Her bedroom.
Piper stared at the painting of her in her living room. She wasn’t sure how she could look at it every day. But she wasn’t sure that she could ever get rid of it either. He had captured her love for him. It was in her soft smile, the tilt of her head.
How could she ever cover that with stark white primer?
She had made a mistake. It would be better to run their relationship into the ground, have whatever time they could have, before it ended. To steal those precious moments, to live happy, until they weren’t anymore.
Piper called Brady with shaky fingers.
He didn’t answer.
The background on her cell phone reflected up at her. Butterflies. The mural he had painted on her old bedroom wall.
Piper went into her photos and deleted it.
She had been carrying that fantasy entirely too long.
Chapter Fifteen
BRADY SAT DOWN IN THE CORNER OF THE COFFEE shop on his lunch break with Shelby and the twins. Boston was at Zach’s basketball game.
“How the heck are all you girls?” he asked, smiling. He was glad for the company while he ate his sandwich. Sometimes he enjoyed retreating into a moody corner and putting in his earbuds while he took his break. But most of the time he preferred company. It was one of the reasons he didn’t mind the low-paying job he’d begged Charlotte to give him at her coffee shop. He got to interact with people, saw repeat customers over and over, and was reminded of the simple pleasure of doing something for someone else. Never in a million years would he have thought he would be content to do something like this, but he was. For now.