I rose to my feet, standing directly in front of him. This wasn’t my fault. And I truly believed I hadn’t done anything wrong. “It’s not like I told her much—I didn’t even know where you lived until today. It was harmless girl talk, commiserating together over broken hearts. Not that I would expect you to understand that—your heart’s never been in this game.”
The pulse in his neck was racing, and his eyes were blazing with anger, but Braydon remained silent.
“You know what. Never mind. It was stupid to think coming here meant something.” I grabbed my purse and stuffed my feet into my shoes. “Good-bye Braydon.” I was out the door and in the elevator without a backward glance.
19
A few days later, I couldn’t ignore Braydon’s constant phone calls and texts any longer. I agreed to meet him for coffee at a central location.
When I arrived, Braydon was already seated at a table by the front window with a mug in front of him and another that was for me, I presumed. Coffee had been too rough on my postflu stomach and I’d been avoiding it for several weeks now.
I approached the table and Braydon rose to his feet. He looked tired. Still handsome as always, but dark circles ringed his eyes and the usual mischief sparkling in them was missing. “Thank you for meeting me.”
I nodded. He wasn’t getting jack squat out of me. I was here. That was all.
“I wanted to apologize, and explain everything to you.”
“I’m listening.”
He nodded, and fiddled with his coffee mug. “First and foremost, I’m sorry how I behaved. I overreacted. You did nothing wrong, and I see that now. I just . . . get a little tense thinking that Katrina is still, after all this time, trying to infiltrate my life, and used you to gain information.”
I listened while he spoke, but something wasn’t sitting right with me. I thought of the girl I’d met and the sadness I’d seen in her eyes. “Did you ever consider that maybe she just needs closure from you?”
He blinked at me several times. “What do you mean?”
God, men . . . they could be so dense. “Like to hear from you why it ended, what went wrong, so she can accept it and move on from that time in her life . . .”
He shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”
“I think it might be.” I was probably taking a gamble, but something told me a little closure coming from Braydon himself could be exactly the thing to solve this. Only I had no idea if he’d be open to that. “Would you be willing to talk with her?”
“Break my restraining order by voluntarily meeting with her?”
I nodded.
“Shit, Ellie. If you think it will work, why the hell not. But you’re going to be there for the conversation. I can’t be alone with her.”
“Of course I am.” Something told me I’d likely be moderating the conversation between them. “Shall I text her? See if she’s free?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why the hell not?” He smirked.
I dug out my phone and sent the text through. I debated whether or not to tell her she’d be facing Braydon, and in the end, decided to be honest, hoping she’d still agree to come.
Me: Hey, are you free to meet now for coffee? I’m with Braydon. It’s important.
Kat: Okay . . . I’ll come.
“She’s on her way.”
“Lovely,” Braydon murmured.
I could tell he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of facing his crazy ex-girlfriend right now, but I believed this could solve things once and for all between Braydon and his past. Which was really all I ever wanted.
Soon Kat arrived, and the gleeful expression on her face when she spotted Braydon was slightly disconcerting.
“Hey, Kat,” I greeted her with a one-armed hug and Braydon’s eyes widened. I didn’t think he was expecting that we were quite so close.
“Um, hi. Hi, Braydon.”
“Hello,” he returned coolly.
“Would you like to grab some coffee?” Might as well be a good hostess since I’d arranged this awkward encounter.
“I’m fine.” She sat down, joining us at the table so that she was seated directly across from me and Braydon.
Somehow I found the right words to explain to them both, carefully, that a last meeting seemed to be in order and my goal was to help them move past the tension that still existed between them. Katrina looked hopeful . . . while Braydon looked slightly annoyed.
Once I’d given my little speech, Katrina folded her hands on the table and stared up at Bray. “How have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you.”
Braydon’s eyes locked with mine as if to say I told you so and he released a heavy sigh. “This has to stop, Kat. Why are you still doing this? Trying to contact me through my agency and now getting close to Ellie. It’s been two years.”
Katrina swallowed and looked down, her poise faltering. “All I’ve ever wanted was to understand why.”
“Why what?” Braydon asked.
“Why things ended between us. I thought you loved me, but you started to become distant over time, going away on jobs and forgetting to call me when you landed, and eventually you just . . .” She stopped herself and took a deep, fortifying breath. “I want to know why I lost you.”
Wow. Okay, now we were getting somewhere.
“Fuck.” Braydon rubbed his hands across his face. “Because I was twenty-three years old at the time. Because I was immature. An ass**le. Not at all ready to commit to one girl. And you wanted things from me I couldn’t give you.”
Katrina continued to watch him and listen in silent fascination.
“And there reached a point where I knew you were more serious about the relationship than I was. Once I broke things off, quite honestly your behavior worried me. Calling my parents’ house, questioning my dad about where I was. Breaking into my old apartment and staying there while I was traveling.”
A cold chill zipped down my spine. I hadn’t realized how far Katrina’s odd behavior went.
Braydon continued, “It wasn’t healthy. I thought cutting things off with you cold turkey and not stringing you along was for the best. But when you didn’t relent after a few months, my manager at the agency suggested the restraining order. He said he’d seen these types of things escalate before.”
“Oh.” Katrina looked down at her hands. “I loved you. I just needed to understand what I’d done wrong. I needed closure. And to know you were okay.”