A Brand New Ending

Chapter 65

Braeden



The ride back to the house seems like an eternity, my legs bouncing from the anxiety. When we reach the driveway I push the door open before the car comes to a complete stop, my footing faltering a little. Throwing the front door open I bound inside and start screaming her name but there is nothing but silence. I hear the footsteps of my father and Chelsea coming from behind me. I remain frozen, completely lost.

"What am I suppose to do now?" I say softly.

I feel a hand being placed on shoulder.

"Chelsea, if you could please give us a moment," I hear him say.

My father pushes us into his office and I don't protest. I have no energy to.

"Sit," he demands.

Finding a chair I place myself inside it and remain silent. My father sits in the chair next to mine.

"Are you OK?" he asks.

I almost laugh at the question.

"I'm peachy," I snap.

"I know that I can be hard on you sometimes and I know that you need a father right now and not a medical professional."

I look up at him, his expression…concerned.

"I appreciate that."

We both fall silent again.

"How could she just...leave?" I blurt out.

I hear him sigh slightly. "I know that you don't understand it now, but this might be what's best for her."

I am aghast by his statement.

"Are you f*cking kidding me?"

"Braeden, listen to me," he says, his voice more stern. "People like Phoenix are…different."

I try to calm my nerves but it's not working. He begins to notice.

"Do you love her?" he changes the subject.

I feel like our lives have been shifted back, a sense of déjà vu flowing though me.

"More than I could ever explain," I answer.

"Would you do anything for her? If she had a certain wish, would you grant it to her?"

"Absolutely," I respond,

"It seems confusing, but Phoenix choosing to leave was what she wanted. I know that you are scared right now, but you have to respect her wish."

"How will I know that she is safe?"

"Phoenix is a smart girl, Braeden. Even with her recent past of abuse, she thrives in life incredibly well."

I cringe at the word abuse.

"What if she tries…?" I can't even finish the sentence.

My father's eyes close and we both fall silent. When he opens them again, tears flow down his cheeks.

"I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did," he says. And in that moment I know were not just talking about Phoenix. I don't know what to say, so I let him continue.

"I thought I was helping your mom, but I ended up just pushing her further towards the cliff."

"You were just trying to help her."

He shakes her head. "No, I refused to listen to her wishes."

"You did it because you love her; you wanted what's best for her."

"Sometimes what you think is best for them really isn't. I forced her into things she didn't want to do. I had already lost Thomas, and I couldn't bear losing her too. But in the end that's exactly what happened."

I still remain silent. "Do you remember what I told you when you first came to me about her?"

I nod.

"Some people don't want to be saved," I say just above a whisper.

"I'm not saying that you should never see her again, but I beg of you, please, give her space. If she chooses to come back then do not give her any grief for leaving. She is confused more than you could ever imagine."

I look at my father and I really notice his face. I begin to finally understand what he's gone through, the hardships he's had to deal with. The ones I was too young to understand. He goes to get up but I reach out, grabbing his arm.

"Thanks," I say.

"I'm glad that we had this talk, Braeden," he responds. "It was long overdue."

Once my father leaves the room I remain seated in my chair. When I am able to tell my legs to move I find myself immediately heading upstairs, even though I know that it will just cause me pain. Pushing open her bedroom door I scan the room, the light that once filled this room now gone. I close my eyes and inhale, a faint smell of her fills my nostrils.

Running my fingers along her dresser, I pick up various things of hers, the lump in my throat and the burn behind my eyes becomes stronger. I look out the bedroom window and it almost seems unreal that so little time has passed. My body feels like it has been awake for days on end, every second ticking away painfully slow. My father's conversation replays in my head and I don't know whether to scream or curl into a corner and never come out.

But I am numb. I don't feel hatred. I don't feel sadness. OK, maybe that's a lie. My mind keeps going back to what she's doing at this moment. Was she safe?

Lying down on the bed I curl up into myself, my face in her pillow, her scent now all around me and I become crippled. My body no longer is made of bone and muscle, but of mush. At this moment, I don't know if I can move, fearing that if I try I may fall to the floor. So I stay.

I don't know how long it was before I fell asleep but I'm startled awake by a shaking of my shoulder. I fly up out of the bed.

"Phoenix?" I shout out into the room.

My eyes peer into the darkness of the room but there is no sound. No stirring. No one's here. Laying back down I run my hands through my hair, gathering my thoughts together. It wasn't a dream.

Pushing my feet over the side of the bed, I pull my heavy form out of the bedroom and slowly walk downstairs. As I reach the kitchen I glance up at the wall. 3:18 a.m. I groan as I pull open the fridge, the light inside blinding me. Grabbing the carton of orange juice I flip open the tab. The cool liquid runs down my throat quenching the thirst I didn't know I had. With the carton still in my hand I leave the kitchen and head to the family room. Setting the carton down on the coffee table I go to sit on the couch but instead I am met with a scream. I abruptly stand back up, my eyes shifting to see a massive figure sprawled across the couch.

"Jesus, man, I think you sat on my balls," the figure shouts, his voice strained.

I reach over and flip on the lamp, Donovan's form wrapped in a blanket.

"What the f*ck are you doing here? I ask.

He sits upright, the blanket now wrapped around his shoulders. He starts rubbing his eyes. I've clearly woke him up from his beauty sleep.

"Your father called me, wanted me to hold down the fort," he explains.

I huff. "I'm not a child, I don't need any damn babysitting."

"Says the person that is whining like one," he snaps back.

Donovan grabs the orange juice from the table and tips it back until it runs dry.

"Thanks for the drink," He smiles.

I shake my head, smirking a little.

"Ahh, I knew that there was a smile in there somewhere," he teases.

I immediately drop it and the room falls silent.

"So, what are you going to do man?" he asks.

I remain silent.

"I mean, what the hell even happened?" he asks.

I sit down on the now vacant end of the couch and immediately put my head into my hands.

"I should have known," I blurt out. I begin to shake my head. "I should have got rid of his f*cking ass a long time ago. No one liked him, not even me."

Donovan remains silent. Pulling my head up I lean back against the couch, staring

up at the ceiling, my fingers running through my hair.

"F*ck, this is all my fault."

"That's not true, Phoenix, would be dead if you two weren't so…f*cking destined for each other."

I shift my eyes to the side, now facing Donovan.

"If we're so f*cking destined, then why the hell am I sitting here not knowing where she is?" I retort.

He doesn't respond.

"Exactly," I say, the anger building inside me.

"Then why don't you go find her?" he asks.

I laugh inside. "She clearly doesn't want me around."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Donovan says.

"What the f*ck am I suppose to do? She left Donovan, no goodbye, no note…if she wanted to be found she would have told me where she is going. I'm not f*cking psychic…"

And then something clicks. I jump off the couch and grab one of my father's jackets off the coat rack.

"You f*cking coming or what?" I blurt out to Donovan.

Donovan throws the blanket off of him, his form by my side in a few steps.