Chapter Thirty-Two

Brenden pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. A week had passed since Paige led him into her studio and gave a brief introduction to art therapy. He hadn’t shared what he had put on paper, but maybe it was time to reveal the rage he sketched, since it seemed to be preventing him from making progress in real life.

He eased from the truck, thinking of conversation starters. After all, Katie’s car was gone and it was an off weekend so there was nothing that would pull him away. Brenden continued crafting ways to approach Paige as he keyed the alarm code upon entering the house.

The house was too still, too quiet—empty? He dropped his duffel at the foot of the stairs and took the steps two at a time. He had not forgotten the details in the brief that clarified that the men, who Black 2131 were chasing, knew about his wife. The uneasy feeling he experienced was foreign and honestly unwelcome, because it reemphasized his worst fears.

He didn’t want his life complicated and prone to consequences because he executed missions. He took a steadying breath and eased the door open to the master bedroom. His pulse calmed as the evening scent of her invaded his senses. He drifted farther into the room and looked to the mass bundled up in bed under the covers with Raja curled beside. He glanced to his Q8, noting the time. It wasn’t late, but it wasn’t a decent hour, and most people stayed up longer on the weekends.

Except he didn’t deserve for her to be up, waiting around the house for him just because it was a Friday night. Especially since night after night he had come in late to purposely avoid her. In the last week of being home, Brenden had taken the life he didn’t want for granted. The growling of his stomach proved as much, since there was no home-cooked meal waiting for him.

In desperate need of food, and nowhere near as tired as he was upon arriving home, he went down to the kitchen. He ransacked the fridge and found two-day-old beef stew and lunch meat to make a turkey sandwich, but eventually settled on a bottle of water. His appetite faded as it sunk in that he was resigned to a fate he had been instrumental in creating. This despondent environment resulted in the actions and mentality he had employed since returning home.

Not interested in inviting the sandman in or joining the guys for a night out while experiencing thoughts that contradicted his ego, he plopped onto the couch. The TV screen came to life and there before his eyes was a paused image of him standing alongside Rod, Trent, Linc, Josh, Carlos, and Luke. They were in a room at his parents’ estate on Gasparilla Island, decked out in tuxes. Brenden picked up the remote and pressed play.

“She’s gonna bust your fucking balls, Jas.” Josh punched him in the arm.

“I’m counting on it,” Brenden chuckled, and the gang of them howled in laughter.

Knocks against the door silenced them as Carlos moved to opened it and found Tia on the other side.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Rod asked, moving toward his wife.

“Something’s wrong with Paige. She isn’t feel—”

Brenden shot out the door with his entourage following. He zoomed past service staff and made his way to the west wing of his parents’ palatial estate. He then began pounding against a closed door while begging to be let inside. An older woman who resembled Paige opened the door. The woman, along with a few other girls, tried to get Brenden to leave, but he wouldn’t. Finally they let him in and led him to the closed bathroom door.

Concern etched on his face before his eyes closed. He knocked at the door. “Nichols.” The only response he got was what sounded like Paige throwing up her morning breakfast. “Paige, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Butterflies, Brenden,” one of the bridesmaids snapped.

“You don’t want to marry me, Nichols?” A lopsided grin curved his lips.

A weak giggle came from the other side of the door. “I’m marrying you, Jasper. I’ll see you down that aisle.”

“Promise?”

“Forever, Brenden.”

“Can I see you?”

“NO!” the room full of women shouted.

“No way, that’s bad luck and I intend on being married to you until we’re both using canes to get around.”

He smiled, looking at the door as if he could see her on the other side.

“Brenden, please leave now so we can get her ready,” one of the women begged.

“Yes, ma’am, Bellamy.” He turned back to the closed door. “Love you, Nichols.”

“Ditto, Jasper,” Paige called back.

Brenden slumped deeper into the couch. He did not recognize himself as the love-sick puppy on screen. Paige was the only woman to ever make him the way he saw himself on camera. He couldn’t remember one single thing about that day. Now, he wanted to.

And as he continued watching, the sincerity of the vows they took oceanfront under the most beautiful driftwood arch brought him to one inevitable conclusion. He had been head over heels in love with Paige Lynn Nichols.

Desperate to reclaim the ground he’d lost, Brenden left the couch and went to the guest room he’d been sleeping in. While processing the love, laughter, and beauty of the day he took Paige to be his wife, he opened the desk drawer and pulled out the art therapy assignment she had given him.

He studied the turmoil he’d colored on the page before his mind skated back to the wedding video. Images of their long, passionate kiss after saying “I do,” and their first dance to John Coltrane’s “My One and Only Love” teased his mind. He desperately wished to recall the memories of that day.

And yet, nothing was guaranteed. Except that he and Paige were still man and wife. Even if he couldn’t remember loving her, she had been a part of his life, a part he was unwilling to let go. Therefore, he folded the paper in half, despite being afraid of what he had drawn in the circle could mean and walked to the master bedroom.

He was done being a stranger to his wife.

He raised his fist to knock…but then paused. He wasn’t the man he saw in the video. They both knew it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath like she had taught him, then stooped down to the bottom of the door. He slid the paper underneath the crack. Unlike the circle he drew that held his dueling emotions, she could judge him. He wasn’t ready for her to find the disappointment she may see in him.

However, he wanted her to know that he had tried and was ready to relearn being them one more time.

…

Paige’s eyes opened as she grabbed her growling stomach. The scent of bacon lured her from the duvet despite her love for sleeping in on the weekends. She padded to the bathroom to freshen up and then made her way to join Katie.

She was certain Brenden was gone after he had avoided her the last week since tasking him with a project rooted in art therapy. As she moved to the bedroom door, though, she noticed a folded sheet of paper on the floor. The minute she picked it up, she knew from the texture of the paper that it was the sheet she had given Brenden from her sketch pad.

In slow motion, she unfolded the paper. Her heart snapped in two, studying the way half of the circle was full of greens and blues while yellow shined down. It was perfect, neat and severely contrasting the black, gray, and red that was scribbled and going out of the lines of the circle on the opposite side. At the middle of the circle, it was as though the colors were battling for control.

Brenden’s mind was battling for control. Evidence was on display in the paper she held. How could she help him? She knew that being home and regaining familiarity with his life could help bring his memories back. If he had placed the sketch under the door, perhaps he was ready to start working toward getting things back on track.

She folded the paper and left the room. She sniffed, savoring the smell of bacon and coffee…then paused. Neither she nor Katie drank coffee. The sound of masculine laughter mixed with Katie’s filled her ears. She made quick steps down the stairs and entered the kitchen.

“Morning, Paige,” Katie called, beaming a smile while sitting across from Brenden at the nook table.

“Good morning.” He stood, smile undecided as he moved toward the cooktop. “Would you like some breakfast?” He pulled a plate down from the cabinet and looked at her.

As his eyes searched her, she couldn’t help how her body warmed, pulse bounced, or gaze softened to his handsome face. God, he was so beautiful. And yet he was in a hell she wanted to save him from so he could get better and they could be them again. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Have a seat while I fix your plate.”

“And tea,” Katie blurted as she winked at her uncle.

“Ah yes, the infamous morning tea.” He winked back at her then nodded at Paige. “I’ll have it up in a sec.”

Paige made her way to a seat at the table. She was cautious in celebrating this change. Not because she didn’t want this interaction—hell, she craved it. She just didn’t want Brenden hiding from his troubles when they were deeper than just the two of them being cordial.

“No morning art?” Katie asked, garnering Paige’s attention as she lowered into her chair.

Paige hesitated for a second. She glanced over at Brenden and watched his movements become delayed. She had not ever forgotten the way he reacted to her questioning him about Daniel. He had been reluctant to share or seek counseling, and the fact that he’d shared his sketch with her was sacred. He was letting her in, in a way he had never done, not even before.

Therefore, she wanted him to know that she received his message and would be here waiting whenever he was ready to talk, because she wanted them the way they were. “Actually I had my morning art before coming down.”

“What was it about?” Brenden asked as he came and set her tea and plate down, then reclaimed his seat. 

“Balance.” She sipped from her tea. “Making sure the darkness within doesn’t consume you.” They met each other’s stare. There was more she wanted to say, like telling him she would pick up his broken pieces and put them together so the chaos would fade.

“Why do you always have to be so deep in the morning?” Katie giggled. “Well, I gotta go. A group of us are heading to community service today.” She got up from the table and cleared her place setting.

Paige watched her leave as she spread jelly over her toast. She was glad that her niece had not been as affected by the tension plaguing their home as she was.

“Are Saturday mornings usually like this?” Brenden asked. She looked up at him and could see his question was genuine. He was really trying.

“Depends. Mostly we’re getting ready to do some activity on the water.”

He chuckled. “That sounds a little more like me.”

They laughed together and then stopped as their eyes met again. Brenden leaned in to the table. “You’re right. I am searching for balance. I don’t want to become trapped in the dark because of forgotten memories. Your project…or therapy helped me begin to sort out the chaos in my head. I’m sorry for how I came home and the way I’ve distanced myself from you.” He ran his fingers through his tousled mane and she wished she could too. “Help me remember you.”

His eyes became glassy, forcing hers to do the same. She reached across, took his hand, and their fingers interlaced. This was the start of a new chapter that would revisit the old to continue a journey that was always meant to be.