Page 6 of The Wreckage Of Us (US #2)

Brittany

I was already on edge when I smelled the sharp, heard the terrifying hissing through the kitchen.

Panic clawed at my chest as I dashed through the house, windows flung open, fans switched on. I hadn’t even gotten halfway down the hall when a scream ripped from my throat.

There it was.

A snake.

Thin, slithering, forked tongue flicking in and out as it moved across the floor of my bedroom like it owned the place. My knees buckled, the air shot out of my lungs, and the world shrunk into a small, suffocating box.

“No, no, no!” My voice cracked, shrill and desperate. I backed up, slammed into the wall, palms flat against it, trembling, every muscle in my body locked. My heart was hammering so fast it hurt.

The next thing I knew, I was out of the house, barefoot, breathless, running like my life depended on it. I barely registered the sound of tires screeching against pavement or the call of my name.

“Brittany! Brittany, hey! It’s me! Calm down!”

I crashed right into a hard, familiar chest. Strong arms wrapped around me before I could fall to the ground. My fists instinctively pounded at his chest, legs kicking out in blind panic.

“Britt, it’s Ace!” his voice cut through the fog, warm, deep, grounding. “Babe, I’ve got you. Breathe. Just breathe.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking violently, hiccuping little gasps. “S-s-snake… Ace… it’s in there, it’s in there, I c-can’t… can’t go back…”

“Shh, hey. Hey. Look at me.” His hands came to my cheeks, tipping my face up. His thumb brushed away a tear I didn’t even realize had escaped. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths with me, yeah?”

My throat felt raw, my body curled instinctively toward him. I tried to pull myself together, but the edges of my mind were fraying fast. The world tilted, voices in my head started to echo — childlike, fragile, scared.

I clutched at his shirt, pulling it into tight fists. “Don’t leave… don’t leave me… Ace, please…”

His face softened instantly, the tension in his jaw easing. “I’m not leaving. You hear me? I’m not. I swear.” He swept his hand through my hair, murmuring soothing words I could barely process.

I could feel myself sliding — into the space where I wasn’t fully me, where my mind reverted to that childlike place I’d worked so hard to manage. But this time, it was faint, like dipping a toe in cold water, not drowning.

Ace kept whispering, holding me as if I was the most fragile thing in his arms. “Stay with me, Britt. Just a minor blip, yeah? We’ll get through it.”

I clung to him, my breathing slowing gradually. His scent — cedarwood, something familiar, something I hated that I missed — was anchoring me, pulling me back to the present.

When I finally pulled away, wiping my face roughly, I whispered, “There’s a snake… in my room.” My voice was so small it barely felt like mine.

Ace gave a soft chuckle under his breath — not mocking, just relieved. “Alright, warrior. Let me be your knight today.”

He kissed the top of my head without thinking — without hesitation — like it was still his right. My heart twisted painfully.

I watched him march into the house like he’d done this a thousand times. A few minutes later, I heard a loud, “Yup, that’s a little intruder!” followed by the sound of the bedroom door shutting.

He came back out, phone in hand. “Animal control’s on their way. He’s barricaded in. You’re safe, Britt.”

I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. My skin was still crawling, but the icy terror had ebbed into a dull tremble.

“Thank you,” I murmured. My eyes flicked up to his, lingering longer than they should have. His face was so familiar, so achingly beautiful it made my chest hurt. Dark eyes, sharp jawline, the faintest scar on his brow — the same Ace who had shattered me five years ago.

We sat on the porch steps, silent at first, the tension like a taut wire stretched between us. The sun was dipping low, casting gold and rose across the sky. I tucked my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think this would be how I got to talk to you again.”

I gave a hollow laugh. “Didn’t think it’d take a snake, huh?”

His mouth quirked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Britt… I know you’ve shut me out. I know why. But I never stopped—”

Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the step between us.

Sierra calling.

My heart gave a sharp, involuntary lurch. I stiffened, trying to pretend it didn’t bother me. But it did. Oh, it did.

Why was she calling him? Why was she still in the picture? They were divorced — I knew that. I had made it my business to know that before I slammed the door on his presence in my life.

Ace glanced at me. “I should get this,” he muttered, almost sheepish.

“Go ahead.” My voice was cool, clipped. My fingers dug into my palms.

Without thinking — or maybe wanting to show me transparency — he hit speaker.

“Ace! I am sorry for disturbing your trip but she is acting out again” Sierra’s voice rang out, high-pitched, annoyed. “Karla’s been asking for you all afternoon. She’s refusing to eat dinner unless you say goodnight.”

My blood froze.

Karla?Who the hell was Karla?

Ace closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be there soon, Sierra. Tell her I’ll FaceTime in ten minutes.”

“You should’ve been here already. You promised her you’d tuck her in tonight. You can’t keep disappointing her.”

I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me.

Karla

His daughter.

With Sierra.

My lungs constricted so tight I could barely take in air. I stood abruptly, the porch steps blurring before my eyes.

"You-----you have a child?" I say shakily

His eyes snaps to me and it widens.

“Britt—” Ace’s voice was sharp now, panicked. He fumbled to end the call. “I… I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

I took a shaky step back, shaking my head. “A daughter?” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “You have a child with her?”

“Brittany, listen to me—”

“How old?” I snapped, my arms crossing like a shield across my chest. My fingers dug into my skin. “How old is she?”

Ace flinched. “She’s four.”

Four

My chest caved in, all the air sucked out.

“Four?” My laugh was bitter, hollow. “So, what — all this time, yelling and telling me you loved me, she had your child… you already…”

“It’s not like that,” Ace said quickly, standing now, hands outstretched like he was approaching a wounded animal. “Britt, Sierra and I were done before Karla was born. I didn’t even know Sierra was pregnant until after. It was a drunken mistake!”

The world was tilting. My throat burned, my eyes stung.

“You had a whole child, Ace. A whole child, and you never told me.” My voice cracked, trembling on the edge of rage and heartbreak. “And you come here — waltzing back into my life, acting like you still have some claim on me — and you never thought I deserved to know?”

His jaw clenched, his voice tight. “I wanted to tell you. But you wouldn’t even look at me. You blocked me from every corner of your life. What was I supposed to do — throw it at you over text?”

I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth. “You don’t get to turn this on me. You don’t get to make this my fault.”

“I’m not,” he whispered, stepping closer. His eyes were raw, desperate. “I’m not, Britt. But you have to understand — Ellie’s my daughter. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, even if she came out of the biggest mess of my life.”

I let out a strangled, choked laugh, the tears spilling over now, hot and angry. “You were my best thing once.”

The words sliced between us, sharp and unplanned, hanging heavy in the golden light.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. His shoulders sagged, his eyes shuttered, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat.

I wiped at my face, swallowing down the sob threatening to break free. “I can’t do this, Ace.”

“Britt—”

“I can’t.” My voice was firm now, steadier than I felt. “You should go. You have a daughter waiting for you. And I need… I need air.”

He took a small step forward. “Please. Don’t shut me out again. Let me explain.”

But I was already backing away, wrapping my arms tighter around myself. “Go home, Ace.”

And for the first time in a long time, he listened.

I watched his car disappear down the road, the sunset casting long shadows over the pavement, and felt the last piece of my heart splinter quietly in the fading light.