B R E N

T R I G G E R W A R N I N G 

"You don't have to, you know."

Madie's eyes were as stormy as the ocean outside as she looked up at me. "What?"

"You don't have to talk about it. You just made a point of saying you wanted to forget."

Still on my lap, Madie leaned into me, encircling my neck with her arms. She reached up to place a light kiss on my cheek. "This is for you, Bren. I'll talk about it for you. So you can understand," she whispered against my skin.

I had never thought that the person who really needed this conversation might be me.

I probably didn't deserve it, but Madie told me everything. She told me that Quinton started hitting her when she was seventeen, and he made her believe it was her fault because she'd yelled at him about something or another. She said she always felt like everything he did to her was somehow her fault—a reaction she deserved.

It took all my power not to cut in, not to reassure her that was wrong. But she seemed to know it now, and so I was able to hold my tongue.

She told me what happened when she tried to break up with Quinton, how he'd asked if she was leaving because of me. And Madie—my sweet, honest Madie—said yes. Quinton had shoved her down by her hair, and part of that was my fault. But there was nothing I could do about it now, so I just rubbed her back and let her choke out her story.

Finally, she circled back to what happened in the hospital.

"Even when we were getting ready to leave for college, both Quin and I knew that something was pulling us apart," she said. Her head was tucked into the crook of my neck, so I couldn't see her expression. But I felt the tingling of her voice as she mumbled into my skin. "Quinton was enjoying this new freedom that comes after high school, but he still expected me to live in this tiny box of his creation. And I kept trying to get out. And he kept pulling back. I just didn't realize..."

She took a deep breath and then exhaled, a soft caress over my body.

"Midway through August, he wanted me to go on the pill. He didn't want to use condoms anymore."

My jaw instantly clenched. Madie must have felt the way my body tightened, because she shifted, glancing up. But I was too busy trying not to shudder at the images that immediately popped into my head of Quinton and Madie together. I hated that he touched her. I hated that he touched her and left permanent marks.

"I said okay," Madie continued, tucking herself back into me. "I said I'd go to the doctor. But then he pulled out the little packet of them, saying he'd already stopped by the free clinic in town. And—god, I'm such an idiot."

I took a mental breath, doing everything I could to stay calm. The very last thing she needed was to see me angry again. "You're not," I muttered and kissed her hair. "Keep going."

She buried herself deeper. Unsurprisingly, Madie seemed to crave any physical reassurance. But I would hold her until my arms fell asleep, and tingles erupted in my limbs if that was what it took. The next words were so soft, it was almost as if she didn't really want me to hear them. "I read the label of what he gave me, researched the med to learn about it, but I didn't see anything concerning. So I started taking it."

I could feel her heavy breathing through my shirt, fanning through cotton onto skin. It was so long before she spoke again that I wondered if she'd fallen asleep.

But then she confirmed my suspicions. Her voice was barely audible. "It was all a fake. It was a placebo. It was nothing. I was taking nothing."

Pulling back, I looked down. Tucking a finger beneath Madie's chin, I lifted it so I could see her. "But you didn't know until you got to the hospital?"

Her bright eyes closed, simultaneous with a tear leaking out. It rolled all the way down. The wetness hit my chest. She took a deep, gasping breath. "No."

I was lucky enough to see her gorgeous blue eyes open again but then noticed that the sadness there was deeper than the sea. "I didn't know until I started bleeding in the hospital bed. Not until the miscarriage."

As soon as I saw the word on the hospital record, I wondered if Madie had known she was pregnant. It would have made sense; it would have explained her reluctance to leave Quinton. But no, it didn't seem like that was the case. And I didn't know if that was better or worse, to have lost what you didn't even know you had.

"Somehow I just knew in my gut." She snuggled back into me. "I knew he had done this to me, too. Nessa was there. She held my hand as..."

I felt her swallow before continuing. 

"It was disorienting. It wasn't long after surgery, and I was still confused. Doctors rushed in. They asked me if I was pregnant. I kept saying no. No. No, I couldn't be."

Madie's voice dropped down—low, so low. "And I wasn't. Not anymore, anyway."

My grip tightened around her. This had probably all happened while I was on my way to Fresno—as I ran away from her.

"Nessa asked me if I'd been on any birth control, and as soon as the words fell out of my mouth that Quinton had been supplying it for me, we both knew something wasn't right," she continued. "Bren, I took that little pill every day. At the same time every night. I never missed a dose."

"I'm sure you didn't, baby." It was all I could think to say.

Madie sighed. "Nessa went to get the pills from our dorm room, and she stormed down to the pharmacist, demanding them to take a look."

I smiled a little, imagining Nessa. She was the champion Madie needed, and I couldn't be more thankful she was there.

"Everything was really bad for a few days after that," Madie went on. "I was still disoriented. And I didn't know how I'd let that happen. And I was confused. I felt such guilt and grief at losing a child I didn't know I had, shocked out of my system from stress or trauma or whatever else. But mostly, I felt guilty because..."

Her words faded into the air.

"It's okay," I whispered. "Whatever it is, you can say it."

She coughed a little, a strangled little cry telling me that perhaps this was the worst of it. "God, I was so relieved. I'd come so close to being connected to him forever. Which is exactly what he'd wanted. He knew I was pulling away, and he wanted to make sure that didn't happen."

Madie suddenly jumped out of my lap, and she gravitated toward the windows. I saw her wipe at a tear, heard her little sniffle. I didn't know how much time passed as I just watched her back, trying not to think too hard about what she was telling me. It was hard to believe, and yet...Quinton had been directing her moves for years, the ultimate playmaker. And this was his final act.

Finally, Madie spun on her heel, looking at me with a small smile. "But it was also what I needed, Bren. As crazy as that sounds. For so long, I had thought that Quinton's abuse was somehow my fault."

I opened my mouth, but she put a finger up, and I drew my lips together again.

"I thought he just had anger problems," she said. "And I kept angering him, so what had I expected to happen? Even after throwing me into the wall, I still felt bad for him. Still connected in a way, even though I knew I could never go back. I still had this thought that he hadn't really meant to hurt me; he just couldn't control it. Even after everything you told me, Bren, I still wondered if there was a small part of Quinton that loved me in his own way."

I couldn't lie. It hurt to hear that. She hadn't really been as ready to leave him as maybe she'd thought—as maybe I'd thought.

"But tampering with my medication wasn't some impulse he just hadn't been able to control," Madie said, her voice strong. Angry. "It was premeditated, Bren. Carefully planned. Manipulating my body in ways I never would have ever believed him capable of. No one does that to someone they love. And after I realized that, I said goodbye to Quinton Reid forever."

She padded across costly carpet, dragging her feet through the shag. This time instead of sitting on my lap, she lowered, placing her head in my lap. And then Madie blinked up, her hair fanning out across my thighs.

"I know I won't be able to actually forget. How could I? There will always be pain. But I just want to be alive, now." One hand came up to cup my cheek, and my eyelids fluttered at her touch. "It was like I slept through four years of my life, not really thinking for myself. I lived in this dormant state, my brain dulled."

I ran my fingers through her hair. "I've always thought you were incredibly bright, Madie. From the moment I met you, you've been a flame I couldn't ignore." I smiled, a light laugh accompanying it. "I guess I'm just a moth."

A grin spread across her face as her hand fell away. Her eyes met mine, and there was light there, too. Then she twisted on her side, curling up in a ball. We both watched the waves for a while, wondering if the storm would strike or if it would subside and fade into the evening.

"I truly hope he gets the help he needs," Madie spoke eventually. "Something is deeply wrong inside him. But now I know."

"That something is wrong with him?" Fuck, I'd always known that. But it was good she knew now, too.

"No," she whispered. "I think I always knew that to an extent. But now I know that there's nothing wrong with me. I didn't deserve anything. Not a single hit. And knowing that is the most freeing part of this."

I swore my heart burst. Because that was all I wanted for her—to know she wasn't broken. I needed her to know she was worth something, everything. 

I'd never been more tempted to kiss Madie than at that moment. I wanted it more than the night in her dorm room or the other night in bed or last night in the club. I wanted her more than anything. And I knew I wasn't going to hold back anymore.

But there was still such a thing as timing. This wasn't it.

So I sat with her there for the longest time, my fingers stroking through her hair. "Thank you for telling me everything," I said eventually. "Do you know how Quinton got the placebo pills?"

Her mouth drew into a thin line. "I can guess."

I raised a brow.

She grimaced. "Can we talk about that later?"

I nodded, knowing I couldn't say no, even though I was burning to know. It was quiet again for awhile. Then Madie sat up quick, glancing sheepishly my way. "Will you tell me about your parents, Bren?"

I was already emotionally exhausted, but how could I say no after she'd opened up to me?

"What do you want to know?"

Madie shrugged, one shoulder lifting and falling. She still wore that apron, and it made me smile. "I don't know. Anything, I guess," she said.

"Well," I said, running fingers through my own hair. "I never really saw my dad as manipulative. He was just mean. Crazy, almost. Possessive as hell."

I leaned back, letting my head drop into the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling fan as it kept going around and around. For so long, life had been a circle like that. And now...well now, I had no idea where it was going.

And what a privilege was that.

"Him and my mom were high school sweethearts," I said, still watching the curved edges of the fan cut through air, sending a drafty breeze onto us. "My dad was in business, but he switched jobs a lot. So we moved around. My mom dropped out of college senior year when she got pregnant with me. She had no work experience or degrees, and I know that was what scared her about leaving my dad. She didn't know where she'd find a job to support us."

Madie crept back up onto my lap, and I lifted my head to look at her. Her pretty expression was so intent on listening to me.

"I always knew when something bad was going to happen," I explained. "He'd get this look in his eyes. When I think back on it, he'd had that look the whole week before killing my mom. Maybe she knew it. Maybe she saw it."

I'd talked about this enough to Caroline, and in the few grief sessions I actually stuck around for, that I could spit out the words without sinking too far into memories. Sometimes I wondered if that meant I had become apathetic. Sometimes I wondered if that was good or bad.

"What happened to your dad, Bren?"

"He's dead," I replied flatly.

I could tell she wanted to ask more, her eyes wandering my face. But she didn't.

I drew her tight to my chest. "I watched him go that night, too." 

Madie didn't need to know any more than that. She'd gone through enough for one day.

Scooping my hands beneath her bottom, I picked Madie up, and she squealed adorably. I carried her over to the kitchen and set her onto the smooth countertop. Her feet dangled over the edge, swinging back and forth like the day I first saw her in the dorm room commons.

"Oh!"

That reminded me. I went to the cupboard and then the fridge, grabbing what I'd bought for her the other day at the store. I plopped each one on the counter one at a time.

She stared. "Cool whip. Peanut Butter. Funfetti frosting."

I whipped open a drawer and grabbed a spoon. "By the spoonfuls, just for you."

And then Madie laughed, her eyes twinkling with glee and mischief. It was radiant and unrestrained and what I'd seen in her that day when we met, before Quinton had walked up and snuffed her light out.

Placing myself between Madie's hanging legs, I tucked an unruly hair behind her ear and laughed too. "Let's have some of this bacon you made first, though. I'll heat it up."

I stepped back, meaning get a plate. But Madie's legs caged around me, keeping me there.

We stared at each other, a slow perusal of our faces. It was a moment of reflection.

Looking back at things is often hard. Mistakes are so glaring, the ways you cut yourself so deep. Nothing ever turns out how you intend, and sometimes in the worst of ways.

But sometimes...

When I walked up to Madie that day in the dorms, I never thought that I'd get the chance to kiss her. I was just hoping we could be friends.

But god, we were so much more than that now. And I was—without a doubt—going to kiss her a million times if she let me. Because once a day honestly wasn't going to be enough.

At long last, she whispered to me. Sweetly.

 "Thank you, Bren."

🖤

I don't really know what to say, but as always, thank you for reading and sticking with Bren & Madie.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
(all the love)