Oh, wait. He was already there.
Brandon pocketed the phone again, deciding to leave it on instead of turning it off. Then, as he grabbed the gun again, along with more rounds, something behind him caught his attention. A slight noise.
A tingle danced its way down his spine as Brandon shouldered the rifle and turned to greet his unexpected guest.
Brandon had always thought if he ever laid eyes on Stella Davenport again, he’d know exactly what to say to her. That he’d grab her in his arms and kiss the hell out of her, then carry her off someplace where they could start their lives together. But the reality was nothing like how he’d played it in his head. It was confusing and wonderful and scary as shit.
He opened his mouth to say something. Anything intelligent or romantic and earth-shattering. But nothing came out. He cleared his throat, but that didn’t help either.
“Hi,” Stella greeted.
Brandon’s gaze roamed over her loose hair, which kept blowing across her face in the cool breeze, her long legs wrapped in a pair of tight jeans, and a cream sweater that looked as soft as her skin.
“Hi,” he finally managed.
She tucked her hair behind one ear. “Matt told me where to find you,” she informed him.
Don’t come bitching to me about not trying to warn you.
She took a step forward and cut him off before he could start firing questions at her.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here…” she started.
Brandon rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “You could say that.”
Stella opened her mouth, then shut it. She shook her head, then dropped her gaze to the ground. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”
Say what?
“I wanted to call you every day,” she went on. “Each morning I woke up, I wanted to just drive to the airport and board the first plane back to Colorado. I kept telling myself that I’d made the right decision. That being in Chicago was where I belonged. That I was happy, even though I wasn’t.” She chuckled. “I actually thought that telling myself that I was happy would make it so.”
Brandon turned her words over in his mind and tried to make sense of them. But he didn’t understand what she was getting at or how they explained what she was doing here.
“I didn’t want to come back here,” Stella explained. “I needed to make a clean break from everything if I was going to move on.”
Brandon took a step forward. “Move on from what, Stella?”
But she ignored his question. “But you’ve never played fair, have you?”
Brandon’s stomach turned over. “What’re you talking about?”
Stella didn’t respond to his next question either. She reached into her back pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. Brandon’s mind tried filling in the blanks as she unfolded the thing and held it up for him to see.
And his mind was still playing catch-up as everything clicked into place. His own handwriting, which hadn’t been meant for anyone’s eyes but his, was on display for him to see. To remember the flood of emotions he’d been dealing with in the weeks following Stella’s departure. They were a cruel mocking of his own weaknesses. The torment that was Stella’s absence and the longing he hadn’t been able to escape.
Demanding to know who she’d gotten the letter from was on the forefront of his thoughts. But seeing her standing in front of him, more than a mirage that he couldn’t touch, trumped why’s and how’s.
“Stella, I—”
“I read it three times,” she interjected. “After I read it the first time, I crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash. I couldn’t stand it.” Stella turned the letter over in her hands and smoothed out the rumples. “I was already miserable there, constantly second-guessing my decision to leave, and then…” She shook her head. “Well, after about a day, I dug the thing out of the garbage and reread it. I was going to call you,” she announced. “But the idea of hearing your voice and not seeing you made me feel a little sick to my stomach.”
Brandon swallowed, hard. The lump in his throat had doubled in size since he’d laid eyes on her. “So you just hopped on a plane out here?”
“Basically. Well”—she lifted her shoulders—“first I had to pack up all my stuff, then tell my artistic director that I needed to turn down his offer. Nothing like walking away from a dream offer to tell the man you love that you can’t live without him.”
There were so many unexpected shocks in those sentences that Brandon didn’t know which to address first. But Stella beat him to the punch by taking a step forward and holding up a hand.
“Just give me a minute before you say anything,” she said. She inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to go back to Chicago and live out the rest of my days as an instructor. Maybe indulge on the occasional slice of Chicago-style pizza. But then…but then I got there and it just felt all wrong. Like I had fallen into a bad dream. At first I thought I needed some more time to adjust to a new living situation and a new schedule. But it only got worse and I slipped into this sort of daze that I couldn’t wake up from.”
The lump in Brandon’s throat continued to grow. He wanted to tell her to stop. To start cutting his heart into pieces. Because he knew he couldn’t have her. There was no way she was back to stay, because that would be too good to be true. With the exception of Matt, nothing had ever worked out that perfectly for Brandon. He’d accepted his fate without Stella, as much as it killed him. He was prepared to move on with his life, and here she was throwing everything out of whack.
“Stella, I need you to explain to me what you’re doing here,” he demanded.
“I’m trying,” she told him.
He came closer to her. Close enough to see the flecks of gray in her eyes. Close enough to wrap his hands around her slim shoulders and dig his fingers into her soft flesh. “Try harder. Because I can’t handle watching you walk away again.”
“Weren’t you listening to anything I said?” she shot back. “I left a teaching contract for you. An opportunity I’d been waiting for for years. For you, Brandon.”
He squeezed her harder. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I told you it needed to be your decision. To be what you want.”
“It was my decision,” she argued back. “And this is what I want. Do you really think I’d walk away from all that for just anyone?”
He gave her a gentle shake, because he needed her to understand. He couldn’t stand the thought of him being the reason for any regrets. “Damn it, Stella. I need you to be sure. If you come back here, it needs to be for good. You can’t just pop back in, then leave again.”