Chapter 25: Foolish Games

“Are you certain about this?” Belle questioned, pulling the car into the airport’s drop-off zone. “You’re welcome to stay at my place for as long as you need—seriously.”

I offered her a smile and a nod. I’d only spent a single night on her couch, but my fear was already consuming me. Brennan had called twice more, and I needed to put some distance between us to clear my head.

“Yes. I need to go home, see my dad, and sort out my life,” I responded, though I felt like I was on autopilot.

Exiting the car, I walked around to the trunk. Belle switched off her car and joined me. I opened the trunk, grabbed my suitcase, and set it on the ground.

Belle enveloped me in a tight hug. “You’d better come back,” she murmured. “New York is going to feel so empty without you.”

I fought back the tears welling in my eyes and the lump of raw emotion lodged in my throat. I clung to her, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to change my mind.

“I’m just a plane ride away. We’ll see each other again,” I reassured her softly, finally stepping out of the embrace.

Dragging my suitcase behind me, I headed towards the entrance. I glanced back at Belle before stepping through the doors and gave her a wave.

The last time I’d been here, I was with Brennan. I passed the pizza place where we’d eaten and found myself smiling. My smile faded quickly as I remembered why I was here.

I’d ghosted Brennan, effectively disappearing from his life. Dwelling on the moments we’d shared wasn’t going to help anyone.

I made my way to my gate and sat down to wait with my luggage. I pulled out my phone and swiped to unlock it. There were three unread text messages from Brennan.

I knew if I read them, I’d never leave, so I switched off my phone and stuffed it back into my pocket.

When my flight was announced, I took a deep breath. I’d read and watched so many romantic comedies that ended in an airport, or a bus station, or anywhere one half of the couple was leaving.

The other half would somehow find out where they were and show up at the last minute to declare their undying love.

I’d always known that real life wasn’t like that. What Brennan and I had shared had been a fantasy, a make-believe world. Until now.

I walked to the gate, glanced back once, and then followed the corridor down to the plane. Once I was in my seat, I fastened my seatbelt, rested my head against the headrest, and closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, we were in the air. My stomach churned and I was hit with a wave of nausea. The seatbelt sign was off, so I unfastened it and rushed to the bathroom.

I leaned over the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked awful; my skin was so pale it almost blended in with the ivory wall behind me.

I turned on the tap and cupped the water in my hands, splashing the cool water over my face. I focused on my breathing and sat on the toilet seat to collect myself.

After a few minutes, the nausea subsided and I returned to my seat. I pulled out my phone and stared at it.

I was almost certain the nausea was due to my continued avoidance of Brennan. I’d felt it from the first missed call, but now it was making me feel overwhelmingly sick.

I switched on my phone and put it into airplane mode. My fingers hovered over the text message inbox. I closed my eyes and tapped the screen to open it.

Brennan

Grace, please. Call me.

Brennan

I meant what I said. Every word. I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just don’t want to not see you ever again.

Brennan

I’m sorry.

Tears instantly welled up in my eyes. I wished I could unread them, but it was too late. I could feel the turmoil beneath the words, and I hated that I was the cause of it.

It filled me with self-loathing that threatened to bring back the nausea. What was he apologizing for? I was the one who’d run off without a word.

I switched off my phone again. When I landed, I’d call him, or text him…or something.

***

When the plane landed, I walked out of the gate and saw my dad waiting. I ran over to him and broke down in his arms.

He held me, initially confused, then tightened his grip. He probably thought I’d lost my mind, but he held me anyway.

“Gracie,” he whispered. “Is everything okay?”

I sniffled and nodded against his chest. “It will be.”

When we got home, I went up to my room and sat on my bed. It hadn’t changed since I’d last been here, but I hadn’t expected it to.

Dad placed my suitcase by my desk and walked to the door. “Let me know if you need anything, Gracie. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

I nodded and pulled out my phone. I found Brennan’s number in my contacts and dialed it. He didn’t pick up. I sighed with relief and placed the phone face down on the bed.

Less than ten seconds later, the phone rang. I picked it up and swiped to answer, even though my fingers felt like jelly.

“Grace.” Brennan’s voice was so quiet that if I hadn’t been expecting him to speak, I might have missed it. “You just left.”

“It was better that way,” I murmured. “Like ripping off a band-aid.”

I heard him scoff, then the sound of footsteps and his office door closing.

“We were over before we began, weren’t we.”

“We were just pretending, Brennan,” I replied.

“Until we weren’t, Grace,” he whispered.

I chewed on my lip. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

I ended the call before Brennan could say anything else. I tossed my phone on the bed and let out a strangled sigh.

I’d built up coming home as this big solution, like as soon as I was here, I’d feel whole. All I’d done was transport myself and my confusion to another place.

I went downstairs and sat at the breakfast bar. Dad was standing over the stove. I could smell the chicken soup that I’d grown up with. It was my favorite and he knew it.

A twinge of sadness tugged at my heart. Mom used to bake fresh bread to go with it.

“Coffee?” Dad asked, reaching for the cupboard. I nodded, starting to rise, but he waved me back down and began to prepare two cups of coffee. He set one down in front of me a few minutes later.

“So, are you going to spill why you really came rushing back here,” he said, leaning against the counter, “or am I going to have to play detective?”

I picked up the cup and wrapped my fingers around it. I took a sip and frowned. Dad had switched his coffee brand, it tasted different. Like a spoon had been left in the cup overnight. Almost metallic.

I set it back down.

“Not to your taste?” Dad asked.

“You switched brands?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. He walked to the pantry and pulled out the same brand of instant coffee we’d always had.

“They must have tweaked the recipe,” I grumbled.

Dad laughed and walked back over to me. He took a sip of his own drink and then laughed again.

“Tastes the same to me, Gracie… Nice try, but I’m not letting you dodge the topic that easily.”

I placed my hands on the counter, letting the cool marble seep into my warm hands.

I hadn’t been consciously trying to change the subject, but now that Dad had me on the spot, I felt like I was starting to blush.

I pressed one of my now-cool hands to my face and almost sighed at the relief of the temperature change.

“It’s nothing, Dad,” I finally said.

“I’ve known you your whole life, kiddo. I can tell when something’s eating at you, and I can tell when you’re fibbing.”

Dad smiled and walked around to the barstool next to me. He sat down and gave me a gentle shoulder bump. “So how about you start from the beginning?”

“The beginning?” I echoed. “The beginning was a long time ago.”

“Well, we’ve got time.”

I told Dad about Brennan. About how I’d been with him since his company’s inception. This was all information my father already knew.

He hadn’t known about my crush, or Brennan’s habit of dating women and making me the one to break their hearts.

“After Mom passed, I came home, and for the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like I was hurting anyone. I went back with the intention of quitting the job and coming home.

“I thought because I’d found peace here, that here was where I needed to be.”

Tears rolled down my face. I lifted the cuff of my sweatshirt to my face and wiped my eyes.

“Brennan didn’t want me to go, and at first he made it difficult. Then he offered me an out. He asked me to pretend to be his fiancée at his sister’s wedding and I could leave as soon as it was over.

“So I said yes, Dad.” I laughed. “I thought it would be easy, and it was…but not in the way I imagined.”

Dad chuckled. “You fell in love.”

“I can’t trust it, Dad. I can’t trust the love he says he has for me, and I can’t trust the love I have for him. I’ve seen too much—I’ve done too much.”

I pushed the slowly cooling coffee away from me and stretched my arms out, resting my head in the crook of my elbow. Tears pooled and then fell down, over my nose and onto the counter.

“Grace,” Dad whispered softly. “If you run from love when you find it, you’re a fool.”

“Dad!” I replied, sitting back up.

“No, I’m serious. I’d give anything to have your mother here. I feel her love, Gracie, but if I could hold her…” He paused. “I can’t imagine running away from that.”

“Fuck what happened before. Trust what happens from now on.”

I turned and looked at my father. I knew my mouth was hanging open. Hearing him swear had been jarring. His eyes were lined with tears, but he had a smile on his face.

“Now, I’d better finish this soup. There is a loaf in the bread box. I made it last night after you called. Mom’s recipe.”

I smiled widely and let out a deep sigh. “Thank you, Dad.”

“My pleasure. After dinner I’m headed out to the club for poker. You want to come?”

I shook my head. “I might call it an early night.”

After dinner, Dad left and I went up to my bedroom. I tried to sleep but I couldn’t stop tossing and turning.

Around midnight I picked my phone up off the nightstand and turned it on. Brennan hadn’t called or sent me any more messages. I sighed and placed it down on my stomach, closing my eyes.

I was still lying there awake half an hour later. I couldn’t stop replaying what my father had said. How he’d give anything to have Mom back here. How it was foolish to run from love.

Brennan and I had meant to fool everyone else, but we’d really just been fooling ourselves. Brennan knew it already, but I couldn’t accept it.

A few weeks ago everything had been different. Brennan and my relationship had been platonic, if a little skewed. Now it was all kinds of messed up, and I missed him.

I missed the way his deep honey-brown eyes looked at me before he smiled. I missed the way his lips felt on mine. I missed being in his arms. I missed the conversations we’d had, before any of this had even happened.

I missed him.

I’d done to him what he’d done to all the other girls. I’d ghosted him. I’d left him before he could leave me.

Maybe I was a fool to run from love, but all I’d done was take a page out of his book to avoid the possibility of a shattered heart.