Finding Home Again. Brenda Jackson

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      “I WONDER IF Bryce didn’t get back yesterday as planned,” Ray commented when another waitress filled their order.

      “She got back,” Kaegan said, staring into his coffee. He had arrived at the café early that morning after a sleepless night, only to find out from Mr. Witherspoon that Bryce had decided not to come in that day because she had a lot of things to do. A part of him knew that was just an excuse. She was avoiding him, and he’d been hoping to do just the opposite with her. He had wanted to see her. Apologize again.

      More than once last night, he’d been tempted to get out of bed and drive over to her place to see her. But each time he would talk himself out of it when he remembered the look on her face when she’d said, “Don’t you dare blame me for our breakup. You can only blame yourself for not believing in me...”

      Again, he could only ask himself how he could have been so fucking stupid. He had spent all those years wanting to hate her. Despise her. Believing she had betrayed him, and as a result, he’d thought all sorts of mean things about her when she’d been innocent of all of it. Totally innocent. Instead she’d been being Bryce. The person who was always a champion for the underdog, the girl who would give you the shirt off her back, a person who was that friend when you needed one.

      “And you know this how?”

      He glanced over at Sawyer. For him to ask meant he hadn’t heard anything. That didn’t necessarily mean Bryce hadn’t told Vashti, because he had every reason to believe that she had. It only meant Vashti hadn’t told Sawyer. “I know because I saw her yesterday evening when I came in here for dinner.”

      “Oh.”

      That “oh” had come from Ray. Kaegan moved his gaze from Sawyer to Ray. He might as well level with the two men who were the closest things to brothers he would ever have. “I fucked up.” There. He’d said it. He’d spelled out his torment in three words. Words he felt all the way to his gut.

      “Would you care to tell us how?” Sawyer asked quietly.

      So he did. He told them everything. About his father’s lies. About what he thought he’d seen that night he’d planned to ask her to marry him. About how he’d treated her when she showed up at that club near the marine base. “For ten years I believed Bryce had an affair with another man and last night I found out it had all been a lie. A fucking lie. I’ve been trying to hate her when I could have been loving her.”

      For the longest time the table was quiet. Neither Ray nor Sawyer said anything. Then Sawyer spoke up. “The first step is admitting you were wrong.”

      “And the second step is making the wrong right,” Ray added. “I recall when I fucked up with Ashley and you guys came looking for me. It was one of those you-better-get-your-ass-in-gear moments and I took heed. Grudgingly, but I did it.”

      Kaegan didn’t say anything as he remembered that day. It had taken all he and Sawyer could do not to toss Ray off his boat into the water to wash some sense into him.

      “I’ve had one of those moments myself with Vashti,” Sawyer said. “When she tried to tell me about what had happened at the hospital. I didn’t want to listen or accept it. I refused to believe her and accused her of all sorts of things.”

      Kaegan was hearing what his best friends were saying, but they’d had the sense to straighten things out with their women within hours. He’d let things fester for ten years. Ten long damn years. He took a drink of his coffee and said, “Getting things straightened out in less than twenty-four hours doesn’t compare to ten years.”

      “True,” Sawyer said. “But a man has to start somewhere and usually it begins with an apology.”

      “I tried to apologize but she walked off like she didn’t want to hear it.”

      “And you’re going to settle for that?” Ray asked him.

      No, he wouldn’t settle. He would apologize again, a thousand times more if he had to to show her how sincere he was. He had messed up, and if it took the rest of his life, he would show her just how much he regretted doing so.

      A few hours later, Kaegan turned his SUV onto the street where Bryce’s real-estate office was located. He had passed by the place several times since returning to the cove. Had even done so at a time she had come outside to get into her car to leave for the day. He’d seen her but she hadn’t seen him. At the time, just looking at her had elicited anger. Now he knew whenever he saw her that he would only feel regret. Regret for being such a stupid ass for believing the BS his old man had been feeding him. But then, he couldn’t rightly place all the blame on his father. It was also what he’d thought he’d seen with his own eyes.

      During his sleepless night, he had come to terms with how wrong he’d been. There had never been anything going on between Bryce and Samuel, and he owed her an apology. Hopefully she would find it in her heart to accept it.

      He parked next to her car, unhooked the seat belt and got out of his vehicle. He took the steps two at a time, then sprinted toward the front door of the building and went inside. A young woman who looked to be in her early twenties sat behind a desk. She smiled when she saw him.

      “May I help you?”

      He nodded. “I’d like to see Bryce... Ms. Witherspoon.”

      The young woman nodded. “And what’s your name, sir?”

      “Kaegan Chambray.”

      “Just a moment, please, Mr. Chambray.”

      He glanced around when she picked up the phone to announce him. This was the first time he’d ever been here and he liked how Bryce had transformed the Cajun house into her workplace.

      A door opened and Bryce walked out of it. His breath caught, as it usually did whenever he saw her. She was professionally dressed in a pair of black slacks and a short-sleeve printed blouse. Her hair flowed around her shoulders and he could tell from her reddened eyes she’d been crying. A lot. He felt a kick in the gut. He’d been the cause of her pain.

      Without acknowledging his presence, she said to the young woman sitting at the desk, “You can leave for lunch now, Pia.”