Page 117 of Branded
That struck.
Nearly as hard as Kailey’s words.
No, I didn’t think that.
Except…
“I gave you those tests, not because I believe every word, or thought you would—though I think some positives can be gleaned from them,” she said. “But because even though they were difficult for you to read”—a look that told me she knew about my dyslexia—“it was a challenge you would be able to overcome. A small one, with something that was difficult. Just like you’ve overcome the big ones.”
“Right,” I whispered.
“So why, just when I saw you settle down on the ice, not throwing your body around like it was invaluable, killing yourself to get the puck?—”
“What? Am I not supposed to play hard?” I muttered, not liking that she was pulling back the paper that I’d managed to patch over the cracks inside me last night, destroying the work I’d put in with a few words.
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
I sighed.
Unfortunately, I did.
Because even with Kailey’s words, there was still a part of me that thought of myself as a disappointment, would remember the sharp words, would store them somewhere deep inside. Maybe Kailey would give me that sentiment again— No. She would tell me she loved me, that I was hers, just like I’d do the same.
But unless I dealt with them, the words would always be in the wings, waiting.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good,” she said, her eyes gentling. “So, you’ll talk to me about this stuff? We’ll work on it? You’ll be the open book you pretend to be so that you can live your big, bold, ballsy life?”
That had my lips quirking.
But before I could agree—and toss her a joke…because that was what I did—the elevator doors dinged, and we both looked over. Kailey stepped off the car, her hair a mess, her eyes a bit sleepy. Then…she smiled.
And fuck if I didn’t feel one of the cracks inside me heal up.
“I don’t have to pretend anymore,” I whispered.
“No,” Hazel said softly.
I shifted, managed to get my gaze off Kailey’s, just for a moment, in order to meet Hazel’s gentle brown eyes. “But I can’t rely on just her to fill me up either.”
Kailey waved.
We waved back.
“No,” Hazel said. “You can’t.”
I took a breath, released it slowly. “I still think this point could have been more easily made by letting me break shit at a wreck room.”
She grinned. “But, don’t you see, Smitty? Your superpower isn’t hitting stuff so hard until it shatters?—”
Kailey was almost to our table.
“It’s putting things back together again.”
Epilogue
Kailey
