For Her (Broken Promises #2) (10 page)

But I’m not there anymore. I’m not able to hold you at night. I’m not there to make you feel better after a shitty day at work. I’m not there to make love to you and please you in every way imaginable. I’m not… but that doesn’t mean you need to go without.

I need you to know it’s okay to love again, Al. It’s ok to rely on someone. It’s ok to let your guard down, because you never know where you’re going to find it again. It could be closer than you imagine.

I want you happy. I want you to live.

Live for me. Live for you. Live, because I can’t anymore.

And don’t give up on love.

-Lane (the first love)

;)

Hundreds of times I think I go over it, memorizing the swoop in his ‘y’s’ and the way he even wrote out words that he never would text to me like ‘you’ and ‘love’. He took his time with this. It looks like a perfect copy, and it makes me smile at the thought of Lane writing this over and over again until the copy was just perfect.

He always was a perfectionist.

I read it until I feel like I have every letter… every word… memorized. I read until my eyes are blurry with tears over the beautiful words. It’s like he knows everything, and even though the situation is different than he had planned when he wrote this letter… the feelings are all still there. The love and emotion is still there.

Jesus, what am I doing wasting away here in my old bedroom?

I need to wake the hell up and grab life by the balls, because that’s what I’ve always done. He wouldn’t want to see me like I am now; defeated and depressed.

This isn’t the Alexis that Lane fell in love with. This isn’t the Alexis that I loved.

I need to find that girl again, and I know just where to start.

Braydon

“He’ll be right with you, sir,” the receptionist tells me. This office is stuffy, but this is apparently the only lawyer in the area that Lane trusted with his shit so here I sit, waiting to hear what he has to tell me. I called Alexis back this morning, but she didn’t answer. I hate not having talked to her for this long. It doesn’t feel right. I don’t know what I’m about to walk in to, I'm nervous as hell because I just want to get shit back to as normal as it can be, I’m worried something seriously wrong has happened to Al. Today needs to start making a turn for the better because I’m over this anxious feeling I’ve had all morning.

Last night after my shift Gabe and I sat at the bar until three in the morning again, but this time not partying… just chilling. I’ve been spending more time with him this past month than I had in the months prior, I forgot how easy going he can be when he’s not trying to show off on stage. He’s the lead singer in the band, if it wasn’t for his inability to multitask he’d also be the bass player, but he’s too focused on the words and wrapping the crowd in. When it’s just the two of us, though, he’s just the kid I met back in college. The one who majored in business, because he wanted to make more money than his brother; the driven one that cares about the people closest to him. It was nice catching up with him, even if he thinks I’m an idiot for not pursuing the Alexis thing. I can’t, though. I can’t let her think I’m trying to swoop in for the rebound, because that’s not what these feelings are. I’ve always felt something for her, not just recently. I’ve always thought she was the best girl out there, but it’s not been until recently that I realized I would be totally happy spending the rest of my life with her. Unfortunately, it was also recently that all this shit happened that ruined her life. She has to rebuild, I can’t push her into something she’s not ready for. Plus, I don’t want to be the asshole that hooks up with his dead best friend’s girl right after his tragic death.

“He’s ready for you now,” the woman at the desk announces. She motions to the office behind her and I thank her, then walk to the door, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

“Braydon,” the tall, thin man says from his desk. He stands to shake my hand, I notice how much older he is than I thought he’d be. I’m not certain why I figured Lane would have a young attorney to handle everything, but it’s comforting to have a seemingly established man taking care of everything.

After we get formalities out of the way, he wastes no time getting down to business. It makes me smile, because the way he changes demeanors so fast reminds me of how much Alexis loved working with the legal aspect of Lane’s job. She excelled in managing his entire life, whether it was making sure his schedule was planned out to handling his finances. I could see her in a setting like this, sitting at a desk managing plenty of other people’s shit.

“Braydon,” he starts, and then stops himself. “I hope it’s okay if I call you that. I feel like I know you already from everything that Lane told me about you. It’s like you two are my own sons,” he says, smiling.

“Braydon is fine,” I answer, forcing a smile.

“Great. So, typically I like to meet with all parties listed in a will at the same time, but being that you and Ms. Grant are hours apart, I decided it would be ok splitting up time to meet with each separately. You both are listed as beneficiaries in Mr. Sheridan’s final will and testament.” He slides over the paperwork, signed with Lane’s more legible ‘professional’ signature, not the scribble he used to do for fans, and my heart speeds up.

I guess I didn’t think about how much this would bring up the past, the feelings of dread and despair I felt in the days after the accident. I haven't gone back in his apartment since that night I slept there. I haven’t really looked at any photos or mementos because the reminder breaks my heart that his life was taken so gruesomely and young. Seeing a piece of fucking paper he touched brings shit back that I wasn’t ready for. I clear my throat and swallow the knot that’s formed since the beginning of this meeting. I have to put on a strong front. I can break later.

“Mr. Sheridan was very specific that the building you are staying in be placed fully in your name, but all payments have been paid off and you are to be the sole owner of the building you reside in at…” he trails off, reading his notes, “1000 East Pomidore Street.”

That asshole.

“He used his fucking money to make sure I was set for life in that building.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I do and the man across from me chuckles.

“Mr. Sheridan had a lot more funds, financially, than you and Ms. Grant were aware of. He loved you two dearly. He also knew you’d respond like this, and he wanted me to give you this when you did.” He slides over a short note in Lane’s handwriting.

Bray,

Fucking deal with it.

Love you, ya alive jerk.

-Lane

I can’t help but laugh at the brash-ness of this note. He seriously thought of everything and planned it all out, knowing exactly how I would respond to him using that much money just so I didn’t have to make payments anymore. I mean… it’s awesome… but he didn’t have to do it.

“Mr. Sheridan also demanded that you and Ms. Grant split his leftover funds completely in half. This here lists the funds that were used to pay for after life expenses, and right here,” he points to a massive number at the bottom of the page, “Is what’s left over to split.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mumble, staring at the bank account final standing.

“He requests that things are done according to his will. He wishes for Ms. Grant to use his apartment as her own, but ultimately the building belongs to you so you can do with it as you chose.”

“Wait, she’s moving back?” This is fucking news to me! She wouldn’t keep something like this from me, would she?

“I’m unable to say whether or not she will be living in the space he left for her, but it was offered. She has a lot to think about, of course.”

I nod, unable to form words. I can’t believe this. The building is mine. I don’t have to worry about payments anymore. Al might be living in the apartment underneath me again. Holy shit.

“Is this all?” I ask, wanting to head out and try to start to wrap my mind around this… wanting to get a hold of Alexis and find out what happened in her meeting yesterday.

Really, just wanting to get a hold of her. Physically. It’s insane how much I miss being around her.

“Just this is left. Take it home and read it on your own time,” he says, sliding over a white envelope with my name scrawled across the front in his classic capitol letter print. I made fun of him so much for it, but he never broke his ways.

“Thanks,” I nod, grabbing everything in the file folder and standing. I want so badly to ignore this letter in my hands because I know whatever’s in it is going to break me.

Again.

“If you need any assistance at all, Braydon… please don’t hesitate to contact my office.” He shakes my hand, then I head out to my car.

It’s hard to wrap my head around the thought that the building is mine, and mine alone. It’s hard to believe I no longer have to make payments on it anymore. Sure, it doesn’t mean I’m in the clear. I still have taxes and utilities, but that’s going to help out a ton.

By the time I get home I’m in such a haze with everything that I head straight to my room and sit on the bed, staring at the envelope Lane left for me. It’s teasing me; sitting on my lap just staring at me like this. I shouldn’t be so nervous about reading it, but I am. What if he tells me some long lost secret and I can’t tell anyone? What if it’s something terrible?

Without any more thinking, I rip it open and let my eyes take in the words in front of me.

Braydon,

If you’re reading this, it means I finally won at something between us.

Death.

See what I did there? I’ve accepted defeat, finally. You’ve always been the better man between the two of us, I just happened to have the prettier face so it made me more money than you. But, if you’re reading this, it’s because I’m not here anymore. It’s because the cancer finally decided it had enough of being fought.

And you know what? I’m ok with that.

You were called here today with Al, because I need to know shit’s getting taken care of so there’s nothing you need to worry about… there’s just one thing I need you to know.

Remember that night? The one where you got completely wasted and naked water-slid down the makeshift slip n slide in the back yard? I do. I remember what you told me that night, it’s never left my memory. I believe the exact words were “Do you believe in love at first sight? Because I do, and she’s the first girl I’ve wanted to look at every morning for the rest of my life. Ever. Ever.” Then you continued on about sex and girls and rock and roll, I played it off like you were drunk and didn’t know what you were talking about, but I did. I did know what and who you were talking about, Bray. I may have been a tool because I knew what you said that night wasn’t just because you were drunk, I never reminded you of it. I’m probably a jerk because I ended up falling in love with her too and taking any sort of happiness you thought you’d be able to reach and ripping it from you, but you have to understand… Alexis… she just has something about her that made me not be able to fight it.

She’s one of a kind, Bray.

And I’m writing this because of that. Because as weird as it sounds, I think I was meant to have her first… to have her and lose her…because you were always the better man between us. You’ll be able to help put her back together and you two will be stronger for it.

Just remember. She’s not going to be easy. It’s ok to chase. It’s okay to love. It’s ok to make it to your goal… even if you think you’re a complete tool for wanting to make it there and succeed. Just… do me one thing?

Never stop. Never stop the chase, even when you have her. Even when you think you don’t have to chase and fight for her anymore, don’t stop… because that’s when you’ll lose her.

Don’t stop, Bray… and don’t give up.

Asshole.

I love you, brother. Just know that. I want you happy.

Her too.

-Lane

The date at the top of the letter is back when he was in the midst of chemo and radiation and didn’t think he would make it. I remember that time vividly, because I was angry that I was losing a brother and couldn’t do shit for it. I wasn’t a good friend, I wasn’t a good person… I was miserable to be around because I couldn’t help my friend… my brother… stay alive. There was nothing I could do for another one of my loved ones dying from cancer. I wasn’t the best person back then, he still wrote this letter as if I was the moon and the stars to him. Like I deserve all the happiness he’s missing out on.

Fuck.

I was never mad at him for dating her… for loving her. I never felt as if he stole her from me, because I never had her nor did I ever plan on having her. Honestly, I don’t remember ever telling him that at the party, but apparently it stuck with him. I always knew if I was ever to settle down with anyone it’d be with someone like her, but I never put any signal out there that I’d want to be with her. I’ve always been too afraid of losing her as a best friend. I was happy being single and had no reason to shoot for anything different. She’s too good of a person to not have as a friend. I never resented him for being with her… I was happy for both of them. I was happy for them, because I knew how happy they both were. I mean… I guess I never knew that he knew how I really felt about her, but in honesty I don’t think I knew it either. I mean, I never pined after her or anything, did I? Sure, I felt like the third wheel at times, and there were times I’d watch them two together and get jealous, but I always figured it was because I didn’t have that with anyone.

How have I been so blind to my feelings all these years?

I know one thing for sure… in these past few months of watching how strong she can be, I’ve grown stronger feelings for her than I ever have known possible. Stronger than I have the courage to say out loud. Stronger than anything else I’ve ever felt before. She brings the light back into an otherwise dark world. She’s my one reason to get up and start moving every day.

“Bray?” Al’s voice breaks through the deafening silence in the room. Looking up, my breath is taken away by the sight in front of me.

She’s here. She’s standing in my bedroom doorway with an expecting look on her face, like I’m supposed to say something profound right now. All I want to do, though, is let go of the tears that have been threatening ever since I started reading this damn letter.