Page 119 of The Breaking Point

I sighed. I was exhausted. I just wanted to sleep until my life felt normal again. Maybe if I just gave Grace some time, she’d come around.

“You’re coming home with me,” said Mac as he started the car.

“I’m sure Elodie will love that,” was my wry remark.

“Elodie will understand. But I don’t want to leave you alone right now. And the last thing you need is to get into another fight and end up arrested again.”

I didn’t have the strength to protest. If Mac wanted to tuck me into bed at his place, fine. It wouldn’t change the fact that my life was in pieces, the woman I loved hated me, and that I didn’t have the wherewithal to give a shit anymore.

GRACE

A month after I’d broken up with Brady, Kelly and Elodie persuaded me to go out to dinner with them.

“You’ve been a total shut-in for weeks now,” Kelly had said gently when she’d called me a few days prior. “I’m worried about you. It’s not healthy.”

I hadn’t realized it’d been almost a month since I’d walked out of Brady’s apartment. Time had seemed to flow both quickly and too slowly. I had barely even noticed.

“This isn’t a blind date setup, is it?” I’d asked, suspicious.

“Would I do that to you?” Kelly paused. “Okay, I would, but it’s not. I’m inviting Elodie, too. I know you guys are friends. I reached out to her, and she thinks it’s a good idea.”

I’d wanted to ask how Kelly had managed to get in touch with Elodie, but I hadn’t had the energy. Knowing Kelly, she’d probably stalked Elodie at her favorite café and had managed to get her phone number without seeming like a total creeper.

But after some more persuasion from Kelly, I agreed to go to dinner.

I knew I needed to get out of the house. I could tell that my parents were worried, too.

Dad kept acting awkwardly around me, clearing his throat and then asking me inane questions. Once, he’d asked me in all seriousness what my thoughts were on the upcoming demolition of some famous building down the street from our house.

“Why would I care about that?” I’d asked him, confused.

“Uh, well, it’s a historical building. You like history, right? Maybe you should read about it.”

Then he’d grabbed a drink from the fridge and headed out. Mom had just shrugged when I’d asked her about it.

“You know your dad,” she’d said. “He’s terrible about talking about his feelings.”

Dad’s behavior got only stranger. I’d find random treats in the kitchen that he thought I loved: from barbecue chips to brownies to bags of Snickers. One day, I came home to freshly cut flowers that I’d thought were for Mom but were, in fact, for me.

For a quick moment, I’d thought they were from Brady. But then I’d read the card and realized my dad had gotten them for me.

For my favorite daughter,the note had said in his familiar scrawl.

I’d had a feeling Dad felt guilty about the Brady situation. But it was Brady whom I was angry with, not Dad. Brady had been the one to give Ben those car keys that night.

Ironically, my dad admitted that Brady had given Ben the keys after I’d pressed him about it. That was how I’d found out in the first place before going over to Brady’s to confront him.

Ultimately, it was Brady who’d kept that secret from me for six years. After all we’d been through, he’d kept that from me.

Had Brady ever planned to tell me the truth? I had a distinct feeling he’d never planned to tell me. He’d held me, kissed me, made love to me, and all that time, he’d never once thought,I should tell her the truth.

It disgusted me. Hadn’t I told him that I couldn’t stand liars? And I didn’t care if it wasn’t exactly lying. He’d deliberately omitted a key detail to the story about Ben dying. Because it also meant that if Brady had been a decent person, he could’ve saved Ben’s life.

I spent that month without Brady thinking about Ben. I remembered both the good and the bad—how he’d been protective of me but had also teased and annoyed me, as older brothers did.

Once, when I’d been about six years old, Ben had found out an older kid had pushed me off my bike. He’d marched straight down to that kid’s house and had punched him in the mouth.

And then, later that day, Ben had stolen my bike and ridden off with it, laughing as I’d yelled after him.

---