Unbroken (33 page)

Mrs. Quinn laughs. “Please, call me Alicia. And this is your party, too. Anyone who’s important to Brody is important to me. Please sit,
mija
.”

I turn to look at Brody for reassurance, and his eyes are wide in shock. He’s shaking his head like he doesn’t want to leave me with Nickayla’s parents, but I can’t seem to fathom why that would be.

“Go on, Jude. Help the guys with the grill. Nikkolas looks like he’s struggling.” She nods her head in Brody’s direction. “B, you can follow me.”

I laugh nervously, and Brody stalks over to me purposefully. He grabs my face roughly between his hands and kisses me on the lips. He rests his forehead against mine, and closes his eyes. “I love you. I’ll be back for you soon.”

I nod against him, admiring the little pitter-patter my heart still does after he says those words to me. “And I love you.”

Jude has walked away, but Alicia grabs Brody’s hand and walks him a few feet away. Their heads are close together and she says something to him that has him tensing up. She says something else, and his head jerks in her direction, then she places something in his hand. He stares at her long and hard before finally, he hugs her again. He holds onto her for even longer this time before he kisses her cheek and walks back in my direction.

He stops in front of me, and he sits across from me. “Uh. Um, it’s come to my attention that…um. I’m supposed to give this to you.”

He sounds strange, distant, but he slides a small, baby blue envelope across the table. I stare down at it in confusion, and he kisses the top of my head before releasing the envelope and walking away.

I flip the envelope over, wondering who it could possibly be from. Either way, if Brody is giving it to me, it must be important. Everything he says and everything he does has a purpose.

I slide my finger under the flap until it gives, and I pull out elegant, floral stationery.

To the woman who loves my son,

Welcome to the family.

And congratulations. You’ve captured the heart of a Durham boy—my most difficult boy—and believe me, that is no easy feat.

My Brody keeps those he cares about at arm’s length, and he keeps his heart locked away. If you’re lucky enough to see his heart, then I know you’re the one for him. He’s never been easy, not even once.

You see, he’s a fighter. He’d rather fight with the people he loves and push them away than let anyone close to him. And it’s not because he’s afraid to get hurt. It’s because he’s afraid of hurting others. I didn’t even know I was expecting him until I was six months along. And I can’t tell you how many nights I spent with him in the emergency room because he would never tell me when he was sick. And good Lord, trying to find out what’s wrong with him when he’s upset is like pulling teeth.

It’s going to be an everyday struggle trying to love my boy. But if you’re sitting here reading this, I’m sure you know that by now. My boy doesn’t love easy, but when he loves, he loves hard.

He’s going to try and fight you every step of the way.

He’s going to think he’s a burden. He’s going to take as little as possible because he doesn’t want to feel like he’s being taken care of. He’s going to try to hide his feelings away because he thinks they’ll do more harm than good. And dear God, he’s going to avoid telling you when he’s sick—seriously, if you even hear him sneeze, check his temperature. He’s good at hiding.

I know he’s difficult. And I know it’s hard to live with him. But it’s even harder to live without him. That’s a reality I’ve had to struggle to accept.

If you’re reading this letter, it’s because my best friend, my heart, decided that it was time. And if she decided it was time, that means Brody has decided to fight for you and alongside of you instead of against you.

I wrote this letter to tell you to fight back.

Fight him every step of the way over every possible thing. Fight him when he thinks it’s time to stop fighting. Fight him when he wants to start fighting over something stupid. Fight with him when he tells you no, he doesn’t want his favorite ice cream, and he’ll just have some of yours instead—and yes, he actually does that. (His favorite is Baked Alaska, followed by Cherry Garcia, if you don’t know that yet.) Fight him when he gives you the remote control even though he was really into that football game. Fight him when he tells you he isn’t hungry. And most of all, fight him when he says he’s fine, because he’s not. Fight him when he feels like giving up, because that’s not an option.

Fight him every day, fight him always.

That’s how you’ll keep his heart even though you already own it.

He doesn’t need someone who will submit, who will give him what he wants. He needs someone who will dominate, who will push him to be his best and who will give him what he needs.

I know you’re good for him, because Ali wouldn’t have given this letter to you if she didn’t approve. And if she approves of you, know that always, always, always, I do, too.

Take care of my boy.

Yours,

Larissa Durham

By the time I’m done reading, I clutch the letter to my chest as I sob. Nothing anyone said could have prepared me for what was written in this letter. I cry unabashedly, despite the fact that this is supposed to be a merry occasion, and we’re supposed to be celebrating, not mourning. But that’s precisely what I’m doing.

His mom was clearly a wonderful woman. She loved her children until her dying day, which I can see from the words she wrote for me. And I hate that Brody had to lose her the way he did, and when he did. I know he’ll hurt over it for the rest of his life, but at least he can rest easily, knowing that he was loved unconditionally by his mother.

Apparently, he saw my tears from afar, because the minute I tuck Larissa’s letter into my back pocket and reach up to wipe my tears, Brody is in front of me. I stand up and walk directly into his chest, and we are intertwined completely as I cry against him. Once I’ve somewhat gained control over my emotions, he tips my chin up and forces me to look at him. His eyes narrow as he attempts to gauge what’s going on with me.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod. “I love your mom,” I tell him.

He smiles. “The letter?” The tears that spill from my eyes all over again at the mere mention of that letter give him the answer he needs. “She would have adored you, Dove. You kind of remind me of her. Sweet, beautiful, taking no one’s shit. I think if she had lived to meet you, you two would have been attached at the hip.”

I laugh, and he gingerly kisses my tears, smiling at me as he does so. It’s this huge, thousand watt smile that lights up his entire face. I have never seen him smile like this.

He hugs me again, and then he pulls away.

“Hey, chin up, baby. I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says.

He points to somewhere behind me, and I turn around in time to see Henry trotting out from the back of the lake house. I grin up at Brody and he shrugs, like this is no big deal. I let go of my boyfriend and race over to Henry. He wraps me in a hug that lifts me off the ground before spinning me around. Although I’m happy he’s here, I instantly notice Kelsey’s absence, and I know we’re both going to have to hear shit later on about this.

“What’s up,
chica
?” Henry asks with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He shrugs as well, and then does that manly, nod in acknowledgment but don’t actually say anything, thing. I roll my eyes at them, and I hug Henry again.

“Brody invited me.”

I raise an eyebrow as I turn to look at Brody. “How did you invite him?”

Brody laughs lightly. “I was at your graduation, Dove. I remembered him from Cynthia’s wedding, so I approached him about coming tonight. I gave him directions, and he showed. End of story.”

I smile warmly. The fact that he even thought to invite my best friend means so much to me. He doesn’t even know how big of a gesture that was, especially considering he looked like he wanted to rip Henry’s head off last time they were in the same vicinity.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve learned to be nice.”

Brody dramatically splays a hand over his chest in mock shock. “I’m always nice!”

“Sure you are.”

He glances in the direction of the barbecue pit on the balcony—man, do I have the fondest memories of that balcony—and realizes the other guys are still having trouble. He flashes me a look, as though he’s asking for my permission, and I wave him off. I’m in good hands with Henry.

He trots over to his friends at the same time that Henry takes a seat at my table. I cross my legs.

“Where’s Kelsey?” I ask.

His eyebrows raise and he shakes his head. “We broke up.”

This is a surprise to me. I am number two on Henry’s speed dial. I’m the first person to ever know big news when he has it. So why the Hell am I just finding out that he and Kelsey broke up?

“What? When?”

“The day we were at Ana’s Sweeties. The minute we got in my car, she started to go into this huge spiel about how I was secretly in love with you and she didn’t trust me…and shit, I’m not, Sabrina. You’re like my sister. And the fact she doesn’t trust me is
her
damage not
mine
, because I never gave her a reason to think I wasn’t trustworthy. She got to a point where she said I had to choose between you and her.”

I shake my head. I’m not sure I want to hear this.

“So you chose me,” I whisper, matter-of-factly.

“Of course I chose you, Sabrina. Kelsey and I were never going to be together forever. We both knew that. She was headed to New York for college, and I’m staying here. We were headed in opposite directions for the longest time; we were only delaying the inevitable. And whether we were going in opposite directions or not, I
still
would have chosen you. You’re my best friend. You’re my only friend. More girls will come eventually.”

I nod, wrapping my arm over his shoulder. I don’t really know what to say after all that. I know Kelsey’s going to try to come after me, and I honestly hope she does. It’ll give me a reason to let some of my frustrations. I still have anger over Brody’s sorry ass excuse for a dad and Maddox Bradley festering in me.

“So you and Brody, huh?” Henry asks, jutting his chin in Brody’s direction.

“If this is the part where you tell me you don’t like him and try to do the whole macho-big-brother thing, you can save it, Enrique,” I warn. “I know what I’m doing, I promise you.”

He laughs. “I wasn’t going to say that. I think you two are good for each other. Like, you should see how he looks at you when you don’t realize it. I like him for you, I really do. And after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, I can’t imagine anyone more perfect for you.”

At that, I burst out laughing, unable to hold my giggles at bay. “Really? Did you
really
just compare Maddox to Lord Voldemort?”

Henry’s hand comes up to cover my mouth as he shushes me. “Don’t speak his name! It’s taboo!”

That only makes me laugh harder. I swear, he’s an even bigger nerd than Brody, and that’s saying something, considering Brody can quote all the
Lord of the Rings
movies and the first
Hobbit
off the top of his head.

“Which one? Maddox or Voldemort?”

He throws his hands up in the air, acting all exasperated. “You have a death wish, I swear!”

I smile, hugging him before dragging him over to the food table so he can get himself something to eat. When we get there, Brody is waiting for me, plate in hand, and he gestures for me to follow him into the house. He hands me my plate, which is piled high with just about everything that was cooked. I laugh, wondering how he thinks I can eat enough for a small army.

“Is everything okay?” I ask him when he plops down on the couch. “You look…haunted.”

He shakes his head, and I sigh in relief. Well, at least
this
time, it’s not like pulling teeth. He takes a bite of Alicia’s homemade macaroni and cheese and gazes at me with a stricken look on his face.

“I was wondering if I could read the letter?” he asks.

Oh. That’s what he wants?

I suddenly feel guilty, wishing I had thought to ask him if he wanted to read it. It’s one of the last pieces of his mom he has left.

“Of course, babe, but I want to give you your graduation gift first, okay?”

A few hours later, when we’re walking through the front door, I lead him directly upstairs to my room. I put a great deal of thought into his gift, considering the fact that he agreed to let Cason and Dalis stay here when we leave for college.

Leaping onto my bed and reaching beneath it, I pull the box out. I watch as he rips the wrapping paper off of it, and he stares down at the box like it’s a foreign object, even though I know he knows what it is.

“You got me an iPad?” he asks, raising his eyebrows like he’s a kid who got a lump of coal in his stocking.

I nod, suddenly shy. “Um, yeah. See…my mom just got one for the house, and I figured if you had one, too, you could FaceTime with Case and Dalis while we’re off at school. It can be like they’re still with you.”