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I enjoyed the pie Mrs. Jackson brought in the afternoon, but I think I’ll also like her cooking very much.
“Anya, glad you could make it,” Mr. White says.
My legs come to a stop, my throat tightens and my heart races as I come face to face with someone next to Mr. White, someone I never imagined seeing again.
Those piercing brown eyes that have haunted my dreams for the past two years meet mine, their intensity causing an involuntary shiver to run down my spine. They're colder and darker than I remember, but there's no mistaking who they belong to. The familiar strong jawline and thick brows frame a face that once held so much love and betrayal.
Sitting next to him is Spencer Jackson, my ex-boyfriend who cheated on me and left me broken. His features mirror Brandon's in a way that makes me almost sick to my stomach. It takes a moment for it to fully register - they're brothers. It all starts to make sense now why he reminded me so much of my shitty ex.
My daughter's father and her uncle are sitting side by side, both staring at me with different expressions - one cold and distant, the other filled with regret and surprise. It's like seeing two versions of the same person, each with their own unique twist.
Oh shit, it dawns on me that I will be stuck in the middle of a significant family drama.
CHAPTER 7
Brandon
The moon cast an eerie glow over the dense urban landscape.
Our squad moved with stealth and precision through the streets, but suddenly gunfire erupted from a warehouse in the distance. We immediately returned fire. Amidst the chaos, Nathan stumbled, his hand pressing against the wound to stem the bleeding. Blood oozed through his fingers. "Hawk!" His voice was barely above a whisper, drowning in the sounds of battle. "I've been hit!"
I rushed to his side, but before I could reach him, debris tore through my shoulder, sending me crashing to the ground, the blood was warm and sticky.
"Hawk!" Nathan's voice was strained with desperation and agony. "You need to get up!"
In the blink of an eye, Nathan was struck once more, and his expression twisted in agony. My heart raced as I witnessed two teammates join forces to save him.
My lack of action could have resulted in his death during that mission, and I will never be able shake off the guilt.
It’s been a month since I returned from the mission. I stayed in the city for a bit to recover from my injuries, because the last thing I wanted was for Alessa to see me the way I was.
While my physical injuries have healed, I know that I can never truly recover. Inside, I am numb and shattered from the trauma. Every night is a battle to fall asleep without seeing Nathan's lifeless body on the ground, his hand clutching at his stomach as he bled out. The images of fallen soldiers and myself pulling their tags haunt me constantly. There is no way to heal these wounds, but deep down I knew I had to return home. My family would welcome me with open arms; even if I was broken beyond repair, they would still love me.
My heart stops as I see her standing before me, her hazel eyes piercing into my very soul. The woman in front of me is a vision, radiating with the same breathtaking beauty that entranced me two years ago. But now there's a steely glint in her gaze, mixed with a simmering hatred that cuts through me like shards of glass.
She must think I'm nothing but a cruel, selfish asshole who left her behind the moment I got what I wanted from her. And she's right, I am. Seeing her now, it's clear how much I hurt her by disappearing on her.
As the soft light of the chandelier casts a warm glow on her face, tears form in her eyes and threaten to fall. Before I can even utter an apology, Spencer's voice breaks through the tense silence, calling out for her.
“Anya?”
She glances at him, but the fire in her eyes burns even brighter. I wonder how the two know each other and how long she’s been in this small town. Anya didn’t strike me as the type to settle in a small town like Meadowvale, unless she has genuine reasons to be here.
Alessa is standing beside her, allowing her to hold her hand. I find that surprising because my daughter shies away from strangers. Why is she so comfortable, allowing Anya to hold her?
“Spencer.” She spits my brother’s name. Keeping her chin high, she walks to the table and helps Alessa in her seat before taking the chair across from mine. Her gaze is still pinned on Spencer when she says, “Odd way to meet you again.”
My brother smiles and leans back in his seat. “I could say the same about you. You look as stunning as ever.”
Anya scoffs. “You still look like an asshole.”
Everyone around the table pauses, their gazes floating between Anya and Spencer. Seriously, what history do these two have, and why do I feel so uneasy that she hasn’t said a word to me? It’s as if she’s choosing to ignore my existence.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jackson,” she says to my mother. “Please forgive my outburst, it's just that…” She eyes Alessa before going on, as if suddenly conscious of her choice of words. "It seems your son and I have a complicated past."
My mother narrows her brows, clearly as confused as I am. “You two know each other?”
“We dated each other for two years,” Anya explains. “He, uh, turned out to also be involved with his best female friend.” She stresses the last three words.
