Page 67 of Twisted Redemption

The need to defend him rushes through me. “He still is. He’s an amazing person, Michelle. I promise. He’s just going through a rough patch right now.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, my face falls. Because my words are too familiar. Just a few short months ago, I’d said something similar about David.

“I promise he’s different than David. I promise.” He has to be. He’s my Blaze.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do. But I do think that you need to be careful where Blaze is concerned. You said his apology seemed genuine. It’s up to you whether you accept it and forgive him. And remember, if you decide you don’t want anything to do with him, that’s okay. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I want him,” I blurt. “I want him back. He’s hurt me so much, Michelle. But he’s in my heart. He always has been, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get him out. I don’t want to.”

Her face softens, and it makes me crave the motherly compassion I’ve never experienced from Everly and never will. “It’ll take a lot of work. And please, take things slowly and cautiously. I don’t want your heart to get broken again. But...”

My breath catches as I wait for her next words.

“If you and Blaze are both willing to fight for each other, you very well might be able to make this work.”

THE DOORBELL RINGS A little before six. I’ve stayed hidden in my room all afternoon, trying to answer the questions Michelle left me with at the end of our session.

How do you think you deserve to be treated, Brooke? And how does that match up with the kind of treatment you accept from others?

I’ve spent hours thinking and word vomiting in my journal, trying to sort this out. Whenever I try to figure out what I think I deserve, it’s like a tape rewinds in my head, taking me back to Francis’s lectures.

I was never good enough for him. He hadn’t even wanted me. Alex has always loved me, and I tried to let it be enough, but it never was. Not when there were two holes in my heart that my parents were supposed to fill with their love.

After trying to push Francis’s words out of my mind, David’s come next:

You’ll never find anyone like me again.

You think another man will want you after getting engaged and then breaking things off? It makes you look like a flake.

And of course, I’ll never forget him calling my home inelegant. Or his disapproving glances at my flowy, bright sundresses.

You’re still dressing like a teenager.

Ridiculous. I’d been twenty at the time.

The doorbell rings again, and I abandon my journal on my bed. The master bedroom door is closed, and I let out a little sigh of relief. I wouldn’t be surprised if Blaze has only gotten a couple hours of sleep since he got here Friday night.

When I get downstairs, I sprint to the front of the house and swing the door open before the doorbell wakes Blaze up. Dominic stands in front of me, his hands shoved into his pockets. He’s still in his work clothes, although his jacket is missing, and his white button-up is crumpled.

“Hey. I know I asked you to call, but I realized we need to have this conversation in person.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, his blue eyes making my heart squeeze with the way they remind me of Blaze.

“Let’s talk out here,” I say quietly. “I think he’s sleeping.”

“Oh god, finally,” he murmurs as we lower ourselves onto the porch steps. Dominic takes a few deep breaths before turning to me. “I know it isn’t my place to talk about all this or offer any solutions. But Blaze is my brother, and I love him to death. And you, too.”

I smile because it’s true. Dominic would do anything for his younger brother. And for me. There isn’t any doubt in my mind about it.

“And first, I want to apologize for being a bad friend. Fuck, Brooke, I knew David was trouble. I should’ve stepped in sooner.” He flinches. “I know that’s not my place either. But he fucking destroyed you.”

“Only partially,” I whisper.

Rubbing his face in his hands, Dom sighs. “I should’ve stepped in sooner where Blaze was concerned, as well. To be honest, I didn’t realize how bad things had gotten. He told me you apologized, and I just assumed he forgave you. I guess I’ve been distracted this summer. I didn’t really notice how shitty he’s been to you until the past week or so.”

I chew on my bottom lip. “It’s not your fault he was angry.”

“It’s not your fault, Brooke. And he needs to know that.”

I look away. Abusive. That’s what my therapist had called David. But that’s also what she called Francis, and he did far more damage than David. Of course, my ex-fiancé is a piece of shit for cheating on me, but I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say he was abusive.

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