Page 8 of The Promises We Broke
"She looked at me like I was a stranger," I said quietly. "Like the boy she used to love was completely gone."
"Are you?" Xander asked. "Gone, I mean. Because from where I'm sitting, you look like the same stubborn, self-sacrificing little brother who used to drive us all crazy with his need to protect everyone else at his own expense."
I wanted to argue, to insist that the boy Billie had loved had died the night I helped Regina destroy Trace's happiness. But the truth was more complicated than that. The truth was that I'd been running from myself for eleven years, trying to outrun the guilt and the pain and the bone-deep certainty that I wasn't worthy of the love I'd left behind.
"I'm scared," I admitted, the words scraping my throat raw. "I'm scared of what I'll see in her eyes when she looks at me. I'm scared of how much it's going to hurt to be near her again. And I'm terrified that I'll mess this up somehow, that I'll hurt her again just by being here."
I cleared my throat, shuffling uneasily on the bed more because the confession I was about to make hurt a hell of a lot more than the broken leg I was currently trying to ignore.
"But most of all," I continued, the words forcing themselves out of my chest, "I'm terrified of seeing Trace and Cade. Of looking at that little boy and knowing that I stole ten years of his life with his father. Of seeing Trace try to forgive me for something unforgivable."
Xander was quiet for a long moment. "You know they want to see you, right? Trace has been asking about you every day since we brought you home. And Cade? Cade's excited to meet his Uncle Gage."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Excited. This innocent child was excited to meet the man who'd helped destroy his family before he was even born.
"How can he be excited?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "How can any of them want me here?"
"Because they love you," Xander said simply. "Because they understand what Regina did to all of us. Because they've spent a whole year since they learned the truth searching for you, hoping you'd come home."
I could feel the emotional weight of what we were talking about pressing so hard on me that my body was ready to shut down. I couldn't handle this right now. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to handle it. To face them.
Xander's expression fell, and then he leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees as he clasped his hands in front of him. I waited for the lecture. For him to try and come at this whole situation from a different angle. One he thought would finally convince.
"Billie's coming by tomorrow morning," he said instead, surprising me with the sudden change of subject. "She needs to do an initial assessment if you're feeling up to it."
Talk about walking straight into the fire. At least last night the others had been around like an awkward buffer I hadn't realized to be grateful for. But this would mean being alone with her. It felt like I was about to face the hardest test of my life. Like I was about to discover whether the love I'd carried for eleven years was strong enough to survive the reality of who we'd both become. And it at least gave me something else to shift my panic to instead of the subject of my brother and everything I'd stolen from him.
But then another thought hit me, one that made my chest tight with a different kind of fear.
"What if she doesn't feel anything for me anymore?" I asked quietly. "What if I'm sitting here talking about second chances and hope, and she's just... moved on? What if seeing me again was just painful for her, not because she still has feelings, but because it reminded her of how much I hurt her?"
It was such a selfish thought, but still it terrified me to my very core. Was I actually thinking that I deserved a second chance with Billie? Was a part of me already thinking that maybe I was going to stay?
Xander was quiet for a moment, considering my words. "It's possible," he said finally. "Eleven years is a long time. People change, people heal, people fall in love with someone else."
The thought of Billie with someone else, of her loving someone who deserved her, made my stomach churn. But wasn't that what I'd wanted? Hadn't I convinced myself that leaving was the right thing to do because she'd find someone better?
"I've been selfish," I admitted aloud. "Sitting here talking about my feelings, my hope, my fear. But what about hers? What if I'm putting her through hell by being here? What if every time she looks at me, all she sees is the worst betrayal of her life?"
"You could be right," Xander said gently. "And if that's the case, you'll have to respect that. You'll have to let her heal on her terms, not yours."
I nodded, but the words felt like swallowing glass. Because I was finally forced to confront the ugly truth I'd been avoiding. I'd been thinking about this situation like it was about me. My guilt, my pain, my hope for redemption. But Billie was the one who'd been left to pick up the pieces. Billie was the one who'd had to explain to friends and family why her best friend had disappeared without a trace. Billie was the one who'd had to rebuild her life from scratch.
"And if she has?" Xander asked. "If she's moved on completely?"
I thought about it, really thought about it. The possibility that Billie might feel nothing for me anymore, that she might see me as just another patient, just another obligation to fulfill professionally.
"Then I'll have to learn to live with that," I said finally. "Because what I want doesn't matter if it causes her more pain. I've already hurt her enough for one lifetime."
Xander smiled, and for a moment he looked like the brother I remembered from before everything went wrong. "You've really grown up, Gage. And I mean that in the best possible way. I'm glad to have you home, brother. We all are."
The words hit me harder than I expected. Home. After eleven years of drifting, of never staying anywhere long enough to call it home, the idea that I might actually belong somewhere again was almost too much to hope for.
But maybe hope was exactly what I needed. Maybe after eleven years of running, it was time to plant my feet and fight for something that mattered.
Maybe it was time to find out if Billie Schulster believed in second chances.
Even for cowards who'd taken eleven years to find their way home.
