Page 74 of Falling for Grace

“I’m so sorry.” Shame fills me and I hang my head, hand on my cheek, unable to look at this wonderful woman who watched me grow up over the years, who helped and supported me as I had watched Mum battle with the betrayal of my Dad.

She takes a breath. Her voice is strained as she says, “I just wish you reached out to us. No one should have to go through what you did alone, the decisions you made.” She tuts.

“There was nothing I could do, it all happened so quickly.” My voice breaks.

“You had nine months to tell him Grace. Instead you said nothing and made Danny hold that secret, you put him in the worse possible position, between you and his brother. My own husband, not telling me. Do you not understand the rift you have caused?”

“I should have just stayed away.” I say quietly.

“Don’t sit there and have a pity party.” Her voice firm, but I can’t help it, I blanch at her words, even though she’s right. “He had a right to know, and you now need to make him understand. What you went through…..but my child – he was the father.” I can see it now, the disappointment in those eyes and that’s 10 times worse than anger.

“He should have been with you, he would have been with you.” I can’t look her in the eyes anymore, and drop my head looking at the hands that are clasped in front of me. She places the picture on my lap.

“How is he really?” I peek up over my lashes and she shakes her head looking over at the chest of drawers with the pictures of our childhood on it.

“I’m not sure, I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“How can I make it right Sue? No parent should have to lose a child.”

“No, they shouldn’t. But you have to help Brandon understand what happened, why you made the decisions you did, and why you kept her a secret for so long.” She stands up and walks to the door opening it, she turns around and looks at my pathetic self in the bed. “He loves you, Grace, always has, and always will. He needs you to get through this, and I think if your’re honest with yourself you need him, too.”

Chapter 27

Ifeel like I’m drowning, fighting to pull myself to the surface. I’m kicking and kicking but I can’t break free from the water. Brandon still hasn’t re-appeared, and I’m growing antsy.

Iwalk over to the chest of drawers, studying pictures from our childhood. My personal favourite is here; in fact, I have the same picture framed at my house. Danny, Brandon and me, all of us on roller skates, the boys carrying me between them. Danny and I wearing shit-eating grins, but Brandon smiles down at me, his eyes full of adoration and something else… Something I was oblivious to at the time.

A moment captured for a lifetime.

Later on that day Danny had fallen over and broken his arm. Ted blamed Brandon, doing his usual routine of coming outside, standing at the end of his driveway and saying, “Brandon, can I talk to you for a minute, please?” which was code for “You’re in shit and I’m about to tear you a new one.”

I pick up another photo of Brandon and me at the May ball, dressed up, Brandon gripping my hand and kissing my head as I smile at whoever is taking the photo. I run my thumb along the back and turn it over, surprised to feel anything other than the back of the frame. It’s a picture of me, taken on the same night. I remember him taking it. I was lying on the blanket in our school field, looking up at the stars. I look young, carefree and beautiful. Scrawled on the back in Brandon’s handwriting is “Falling for Grace.”

This was after he had kissed me for the first time and everything changed.

“Ah, you found my secret Gracie photo.”

I jump and turn around, clutching the photo to my chest.

“I guess we both had our secrets.” Brandon walks into the room, and I place the frame carefully back onto the chest of drawers and take in his appearance.

His shoulders are slumped, his hair an unkept mess. His eyes are bloodshot and exhausted.

“Where have you been?”

He walks to the photos and picks up my favourite.

“I’m still blamed for Danny breaking his arm.” A small smile tugs at his lips. “Every Christmas, without fail, Danny brings that bloody story up. Brought,” he adds sadly.

We will only ever talk about Danny in the past tense.

“In your defence, that curb had always been there,” I reply before taking in a deep breath and flopping down on the bed. He turns and leans against the drawers, his arms reaching behind him, gripping the top tightly.

“I’ve never felt like this,” he finally admits, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m so conflicted.” He sighs and looks at the ceiling. “I’m so angry at you and I want to shake you, physically shake you, and yell at you for not telling me.”

“I’d deserve it.”

“But then I look at you, and I take a moment to put myself in your shoes. And I find myself thinking…” He’s dropping to his knees in front of me. “I don’t even have words for what I’m thinking, I’ve spent hours contemplating the words to say to you, but no combination of twenty-six different letters could accurately capture even a sliver of what this feeling is. What you must be feeling, what you’ve felt.”

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