Her whimpering got louder until she couldn’t hold it in anymore. What little calm she’d managed so she could load the damn gun was gone. Brandon’s voice alone was enough to make her even more emotional. “He’s gone, Brandon!” Her words were a bit slurred to her own ears. “My daddy’s gone! I didn’t even get to say good-bye to him!”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he assured her, rattling the door knob again. “Just open the door and let me in, please.”

She sobbed louder now, the cruel reality once again slapping her in the face and squeezing her heart. “Oh my God, he’s gone! He’s really gone. I can’t take this, Brandon. I can’t. It hurts so bad. I just wanna die.”

“No, you don’t!” he yelled as she felt him push against the door. “Your dad wouldn’t want that either. Listen to me, baby. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. Just open the door, okay?”

“I just want this pain to go away. I finished all my wine—”

“I’ll get you more!” he yelled, continuing to push against the door. “Just promise me you won’t do anything crazy.”

Suddenly, his voice was level with her, coming in from crack in the door very close to her ear. “Baby, please, let me in. I wanna hold you. I wanna make you feel better.”

She touched her fingers to the door where she knew his face was just on the other side. “I don’t wanna feel anything anymore.” She sobbed.

“No! No, don’t say that!” The nearness of his voice against the door was gone, and she imagined he was back on his feet. “Regina.” His panicked voice broke in a way she’d never heard it as he rattled the knob in vain. “Please don’t do anything right now. You’re not well. You’re upset and you’ve been drinking!” He went silent for a moment, and then he spoke again in a near whisper. “Do you have the gun in there?”

“Yes!” she screamed. “Because I’m a fucking coward and this is the only way I’ll be able to deal with this! I’m not strong like you.”

“Yes, you are!” he yelled. “You can do this. Let me help you.”

“No, I can’t. I can’t!” she cried. “I’m sorry, Brandon. Tell my family I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this.”

She was sobbing uncontrollably, but she could still make out what he was yelling. “I’m not telling them, Regina, because you’re not gonna do this. You’re gonna be fine. Stay with me, babe.”

She pressed her lips together in an effort to not scream out anymore because she hated to hear him so panicked. She managed to speak again without sobbing.

“I love you, Brandon. Never forget that.”

She felt him lunge at the door again and heard it crack. “No, baby, please! Please, I’m begging you,” he cried. Cried. Brandon was crying. Hearing how tortured he sounded did something to her. “I’m not strong. I need you. I need you, baby. I can’t live without you, Regina,” he wailed through the crack of the door, banging against it some more.

Something snapped in her head, hearing how tormented Brandon sounded all because of her. She struggled to get up, still holding the gun in her hand. She thought of Ryan and what his loss had done to her. How could she be so selfish? He loved her as much as she loved him, and she loved him more than anything. If he did this to her, she’d be instantly destroyed. How could she even think of doing it to him? She was a complete idiot! With clarity setting in, it felt as if the heavens had opened up and she’d finally seen the light. Fumbling with the ridiculously big gun, she nearly fell as the room moved sideways and her head spun a little. “Brandon, I’m so sorry!”

Chapter Twenty-

Six

Brandon

“No! Don’t do this to me, please. I love you so much. I’m sorry about yesterday. I’m sorry about everything. I’d do anything for you—”

The sudden and unforgiving earsplitting sound of the gun going off and then the thud of her body hitting the floor took his breath away, and he stood there, shaking. His mouth fell open as he felt his heart shatter. The tears continued to flow down his face, and when he was finally able to speak, he cried out. “Regina?”

There was complete silence on the other side of the door, and the next sound he heard was out of his own mouth as he let out an agonized wail. “Noooo!” He fell on his knees against the door, sobbing and refusing to believe it. “No!”

The pain was like something he’d never felt in his life. He knew now why she’d be so desperate to make it go away. It was ruthless, and part of him, the child in him, still wanted to believe this hadn’t happened. This was just a nightmare he’d wake from.

Moving his head numbly, he looked down, expecting to see blood dripping out from under the door, but there was none. He blinked, still not able to believe what just happened, and then his insides began to warm. This wasn’t like when his parents had passed. He wouldn’t just get over it this time and move on with his emotionless life. He knew now he did feel. He felt a lot, damn it, and what he was feeling right now would never pass.

He hadn’t lied when he told her he couldn’t live without her. Remembering the gun on the other side of the door, he sprung to his feet. With the adrenaline blazing through him now, he cursed God as he kicked the door.

“This is the life you handed me!” he yelled as he slammed his body into the door and heard it crack again. “Are you fucking mocking me?” He kicked it even harder, and this time it finally cracked open. “Well, I don’t want it! You hear me? I don’t want this fucked-up life anymore! I won’t live without her!”

Pushing the door open, his anger subsided as he saw her body on the floor, blocking the door, and he was inundated with pain again. He struggled to get the door open with her lifeless body blocking it, but he finally managed, and he dropped to his knees next to her and sobbed.

At first, he was so consumed with grief all he could think of was looking for the gun because he couldn’t take another agonizing moment of seeing his beautiful princess like that. He could hardly see straight as he continued to sob like a child, taking her body in his arms.

* * *

It was first time since the day of the burial Brandon visited the cemetery. He’d been so bitter back then he swore he’d never return. He’d told himself there was nothing here for him, no reason to come back ever, but now it was time and he had to.

Kneeling down in front of the small tombstone, he laid the single daisy over the grave. It was time to say good-bye once and for all to the belief that he didn’t need love—that he didn’t need friends and family—that he was strong because he didn’t cry, didn’t show emotion, and didn’t beg. He knew now just how much he needed all those things that for years he’d said he could happily do without. He’d never be that man again.

Feeling the gentle touch on his shoulder, Brandon looked up at his beautiful Regina. He was thankful now and would be every single day of his life that he had her in it, because he needed her. He couldn’t live without her, and he told her as often as she’d let him. He touched her hand then brought it to his lips and kissed it. She leaned over and kissed his head. “I’ll give you a moment to be alone with your dad, okay? I’m gonna be over at that bench.” She pointed.

Brandon nodded. “I won’t be long.”

She walked away, and he turned back to the tombstone: Stephen Billings, husband and father. For years, he hadn’t bothered reading or going through his parents’ things. It wasn’t until after Regina’s incident when he sat with her while she went through some of her father’s and her late husband’s things that he decided to do the same with his parents’ things. He’d buried them in a box he’d kept in storage for years, right there in San Diego.

After reading through some of his mom’s journals, Brandon realized what those demons his father had were. Like Brandon himself, Stephen had had a father who was cold and impenetrable. Unlike Brandon, he didn’t have a mother to protect him, ever. But he’d had a younger sister, a sister who his mother said his father had once upon a time shared his feelings about. Katie was the only person to ever show him love, and she looked to Stephen to protect her. He was all she had and she was his world.

Katie had died at the hands of a father who then turned the gun on himself, leaving Stephen completely alone at the age of seven. More than loneliness, Brandon’s father had lived his entire life with the agony of not having been able to save his sister. He’d failed her, and he’d never forgiven himself.

His parents met in foster care. They’d grown up together, fell in love, and married. Like Brandon, his father had sworn he’d never have children. He didn’t want to fail them as he had his sister. Then his wife got pregnant. Stephen was beside himself. In hindsight, his mother wrote in her journal that his father was a man in desperate need of psychiatric help. In her notes, she also said she saw the love Stephen had for Brandon in his eyes but that he fought it tooth and nail. Then the phobia began. The same phobia Brandon had lived with for years: that he would turn into his father. His father’s phobia of turning into the man who’d taken his world away manifested, getting worse over the years and turning him into the hateful man Brandon remembered.

If Brandon hadn’t gone years with the same fears, he was certain he wouldn’t understand. Brandon swore he’d never live in fear of his demons again because there was something much bigger he was terrified of now. Losing his world—losing Regina. He’d lived through the excruciating pain of thinking he had, and he knew with all certainty nothing, absolutely nothing, would ever be worth risking that. He’d been a changed man from the moment he first kissed Regina. But after that horrific experience, he’d live every day of his life thankful to have been given a second chance and doing everything he could to make her happy.