Page 12 of Mad for Madison (The Boys of Hudson Burrow #4)

CHAPTER 11

Not Meant to Be

Bradley

Water dripped from my hair and clothes as I returned to the apartment, each step squelching against the hardwood floor. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the rain, the puddle forming at my feet, or the warmth of the towel Gran handed me with a worried look.

“Has Madison left?” she asked softly, her voice cautious, like she already knew the answer to both questions that fit into those words.

I shrugged, unable to form the words. My throat felt tight, like swallowing glass, and my chest ached in ways I didn’t know were possible. Gran’s face softened in understanding, but she didn’t press me. She just patted my arm and quietly excused herself to check on Lily.

The silence of the apartment swallowed me whole as I collapsed onto the couch. My hands were shaking, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the image of Madison’s face out of my head—his tears blending with the rain, his voice breaking as he said he couldn’t stay.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, as anger surged up to replace the pain. He didn’t even try. After everything—after us—he still chose to run.

I hated him for it.

And I hated myself for still wanting him to come back. For not trying harder to stop him.

Gran appeared again after some time. I had been sitting there in total ignorance of time and place. She had a cup of tea in her hands as she crossed the living room to the table before me. She set the cup on the table and pushed it across in my direction, taking a seat in her worn-out reading chair. “Darling,” she said softly.

“Not now, Gran,” I said, words coming out as a plea.

Gran didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat there, watching me with that patient gaze of hers that always seemed to strip me bare. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t hide from her, couldn’t shove down the storm raging inside me.

“Darling,” she repeated, her voice gentler but firmer now. “You don’t have to talk, but I’m not going anywhere. Sit with it. Feel it. It won’t break you.”

I let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through my damp hair. “It feels like it’s trying.”

She nodded, her eyes sad but knowing. “That’s because it matters. If it didn’t, you wouldn’t feel like this.”

Her words struck a chord, but they only made the ache worse. My chest tightened again, and I swallowed hard, staring at the untouched tea in front of me.

“I don’t get it, Gran,” I said finally, my voice raw. “I did everything right. I gave him space when he needed it. I didn’t push. I opened up to him. I trusted him. And he—” My voice cracked, and I clenched my fists again, my nails biting into my skin.

“He still left,” Gran finished softly.

I nodded, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “Why wasn’t it enough?”

Gran leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied me. “Bradley, love isn’t always about doing the right things. Sometimes, it’s about whether someone is ready to receive it. And sometimes…they’re just not.”

Her words only made me angrier. Not at her, but at Madison. At myself. At the cruel, twisted timing of it all.

“He didn’t have to do it like that,” I snapped, my voice rising. “He could’ve talked to me. He could have trusted me the way I trusted him. But no—he just walked away. Like I meant nothing.”

Gran let the silence hang for a moment before responding. “Do you really believe you meant nothing to him?”

I hesitated, my anger faltering as I remembered the way Madison had looked at me. The pain in his eyes. The way his voice had trembled when he said he couldn’t stay.

“No,” I admitted, the word a whisper. “But that makes it worse, doesn’t it? If he cared, why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t he try?”

Gran sighed, her gaze softening. “Sometimes, people run because they care too much. Because facing what’s in front of them feels impossible. It doesn’t mean it’s right, but it’s not about you, Bradley. It’s about whatever he’s fighting inside himself.”

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, frustration bubbling over. “I just…I wanted to be enough for him, Gran. I thought I could be.”

“You were enough,” she said firmly. “You are enough. Madison’s choices don’t change that.”

The words were meant to comfort, but they didn’t. Not yet. All they did was remind me of the emptiness he’d left behind. Of how much I wanted him to choose me—and how much it hurt that he hadn’t.

And how much it hurt to admit that I still wanted him to. “His choices…” I murmured the words bitterly. “Maybe it’s better this way.”

“Darling, you can’t let anger wipe away all that was good,” Gran said gently.

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. It was all a lie, Gran. He’s not who he said he was, and I was stupid to pretend like it didn’t matter.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, bracing herself for bad news.

I was silent for a while, looking at my tea. “He’s an artist, it’s true,” I said slowly. “He’s talented and works hard to make it happen, but…” I swallowed. “God, you’re going to be shocked, Gran.”

“I’m not so easily spooked, Bradley,” Gran said.

“Until recently, he made adult films,” I said. “Clearly, he has nothing to look for here.” I knew I didn’t mean it even as I said it, but anger and heartbreak were a powerful poison. “What would a man like that do with a family? He’s not fit for it.” The truth was, I kept speaking into my tea so I wouldn’t have to look up and face my grandmother’s judgment. I had already done this once to my parents, and they had sent me on my way. I had told them the truth, and it had cost me everything. “He solved it for everyone, really. No more worrying about you finding out. No more worrying about having to tell Lily someday.” I looked up as if challenging Gran to react precisely how I expected. “What do you think about that?”

Gran stared at me. Her hands were folded in her lap, her back straight, her eyes sharp as ever. “If you mean to shock me, Bradley, you’ll have to do better than that.”

I snorted. “Why are you so nonchalant about it?”

“Because you knew this about him, and in your heart, you believed it wouldn’t be a problem,” Gran said. Although she was calm and supportive, her lips trembled briefly. “I won’t pretend that I’m overjoyed to hear it, but I don’t see why his past choices need to prevent his future happiness. Or yours, for that matter.”

“And when Lily finds out?” I asked desperately, clinging to some sliver of hope that Gran would brush away all my worries and pave the way for Madison and me to be together forever. As if Madison hadn’t just walked away from my life and shut the door on us.

“That day—far in the future, I should hope—Lily is going to learn a lesson about compassion,” Gran said firmly. “What she has now is a father who loves her more than stars, Nana who will never let her down, and Madison.”

Who was Madison in all that?

As if reading my mind, Gran continued. “She loves him, darling, and so do you. And you may have the power to change the outcome.”

I scoffed and stood up. “I don’t have any power.”

Gran didn’t argue, but the seed of thought was planted in the fertile soil of heartbreak and an overthinking personality. I went to bed with her words still swirling around me.

It wasn’t Gran, in the end, who made me act. Nor Lily. Although I kept both of them in mind as one day morphed into the next, Gran’s gentle probing and Lily’s constant questions about Madison only made me fill the cracks in my defenses. If loving meant being hurt in return, I wasn’t sure I had much more love to give. My love was best spent on Lily, not on chasing things I had given up six years ago.

I resolved not to change my mind. The decision to respect Madison’s wishes until my heart sank all the way to hell was final. Yet Mama Viv, the one person who saw through every veil and every wall you could put between her and yourself, swirled a funny straw through her pink cocktail after a weekend party. She had the books laid out before her on the bar, reviewing them while I did the inventory.

“It would be easier if we went digital,” I offered.

“Can’t get used to it,” Mama Viv replied.

“You wouldn’t have to,” I said, chuckling at the idea that Mama Viv actually believed she couldn’t use a computer to run her business. “I’d do it for you.”

“Do you mean that?” Mama Viv asked, her voice a little less bored.

It was nice to laugh. “It should be part of my job already.” For the shortest of moments, I was happy to just exist as my old self, here and now, doing something I enjoyed and not longing to have more.

“Oh, Bradley,” Mama Viv said as if releasing a long-denied sigh. “I’ve enjoyed Beacon so much. Have I told you? Performing for those wonderful, brave people in the safe house. I wish I would do more of that.”

“In Luca DiMarco’s shelter?” I asked.

“Exactly,” Mama Viv said. “We had such fun.”

“Why shouldn’t you do more of it?” I asked, writing down how much gin we had left.

“You are absolutely right,” Mama Viv said, lifting her head and looking at me, a secretive smile touching her red lips. Her wig was huge. Epic, even. “How would you like to manage Neon Nights, Bradley?”

My heart skipped a beat. “Manage? Do you think…?”

“I do,” she cut me off. “That’s precisely why I’m asking.”

“What about Tristan?” I asked.

“Tristan manages the kitchen,” Mama Viv said. “He’s passionate about it, but he wouldn’t be interested in what goes on here. Besides, you’ve practically done the job all along. This is just a title and a pay raise with a few odd details to handle along the way.”

“Mama Viv,” I breathed, hands trembling a little.

“Darling, don’t thank me,” Mama Viv said and looked into my eyes. There was a wealth of kindness there that I have seen countless times in my years here. Mama Viv adopted you for life whether you needed it or not. Nothing rocked her love and support. “It’s nothing more than what you deserve.”

I swallowed. “If you won’t let me thank you, then let me promise to run this place in a way that’ll make you proud.”

“That’ll do just fine,” Mama Viv said softly and exhaled with relief. We were silent for a little while before Mama Viv asked the obvious question. “And Madison is no longer around?”

I shook my head, then told her shortly that he’d left and that it was better for everyone this way.

Mama Viv looked at me with a softness that carried the weight of years and heartbreak, her voice steady and rich with emotion. “Love, real love, doesn’t come around often enough to let fear or pride keep you from it. I lost the love of my life to a battle neither of us could fight, but if he were here now, I’d crawl through fire, swallow every ounce of hurt, and beg him to stay. Because love worth having is love worth fighting for—messy, painful, and terrifying as it may be.” Her eyes glistened, but her smile was unwavering. “You don’t get to choose the easy path, Bradley. You just get to decide if the person waiting at the end of the hard one is worth the scars.”

I hadn’t even noticed them until the tears spilled down my cheeks, and I turned away from Mama Viv. Clear in my view, Madison’s building stood in the orange glow of the street lights, but his room was dark, just like it had been the entire week.

To fight or not? And to what end?