I Love You No Matter What

Chapter 13: Miracle

Three missed calls already today. All from Brandon. He has been calling me every day. I want to be able to fix things with him, but I don't know where to start with him. What do I say? Would he even forgive me for ignoring him? He most likely hates me for being so dramatic.

Once we started dating I thought everything was going to be peachy. It was for a little bit. Bradon accepted my background as I did his. We meet up at different places, besides our houses. Our relationship was perfect until we met up at the park one day and Brandon was slightly drunk. It wasn't enough for him to worry me about driving, but he said some things upsetting things. Things that involved me being a spoiled brat and him just being a charity case to me. I left him and haven't contacted him for awhile. I probably just overreacted. He was a little drunk after all.

My phone rings again. It's Brandon. I look at his contact picture. I sigh as I pick up my phone and answer the call. "Miracle," Brandon's voice says in shock.

"It's me, Brandon," I say.

"You're sorry? I should be sorry. Can you please forgive me? I didn't mean what I said. I was having a really bad day. I shouldn't have lashed out on you," Brandon says quickly.

"It wasn't your fault."

"Could we talk in person?" he asks.

"Our spot?" I say.

"How about you come to my place? I'll text you my address."

"I-I'm not sure a-about that," I stutter.

"Please," he begs.

"Okay. I will be there."

"Good. See you soon."

I hang up. Brandon sends me his address. I sneak downstairs and into my car. I follow the GPS's instructions to a one story house in a suburban neighborhood.

The walls are a faded cream color. It's really cute. I knock on the white door. Brandon immediately opens the door for me. He stares at me. I sheepishly smile at him. "Hey," I say quietly.

"Hey," he says back. "Come on in."

I walk into his humble home. Stairs go up in front of me. There are rooms behind the stairs. To the right of me, is the living room. Brandon leads me to the living room. We sit on the couch. "Thank you for coming, Miracle," Brandon says nervously.

"You've been calling me nonstop," I say.

He drops his head in shame. "You had left so suddenly. I don't want our relationship ending the way it did," Brandon explains.

"You shouldn't have done what you did," I argue.

He scoots closer to me and takes my hand. "I know and please forgive me. Miracle, you are special to me. You are unlike any girl I've-"

I rip my hands from his and stand up. "What the heck is that suppose to mean? Men say that just to get the girl. That literally makes no sense. Everyone is different. Why can't I be normal? What is so wrong with being normal? I really like you, Brandon, but I feel too messed up to be with you," I cry angrily.

Brandon gives me a tight hug. I melt into him. "Is everything alright with you? You seem tensed," Brandon whispers.

"My older and younger sisters left the house. I found out I only got the job at the gallery because my mother persuaded them to," I say into his shoulder.

"Really? I'm sure she was only looking out for you," he says.

I nod. "I just need to let my frustration out," I say certainly. "It's hard to stay in the house when the silence is overwhelming."

"I understand. You can stay here until you have a clear head."

"That's so kind of you."

"Anything to win you back in my favor," Brandon says.

I look up at to him. "You never lost it," I tell him.

He leans down and kisses me. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Brandon asks.

"Yes, you are," I assure him. It's too hard to stay made at him for something so silly.
                                                                                                          *

I wake up in an unfamiliar bed. The sun is shining into the room, blinding me. I lift my legs out of the bed and walk out of the room. The smell of breakfast leads me to the kitchen. Brandon is cooking. He smirks when he spots me.

"What?" I say defiantly.

"Your hair looks a mess," he says.

"A cute mess, right?"

"Nope," Brandon says.

"I'd hit you if you weren't cooking me food," I say.

He laughs as he flips the pancakes. "Go ahead and sit down."

I take a seat at the island. Two glasses of orange juice are already there. "That bed is so soft. Staying the night really helped,"I say.

"Great, but you think your family is worried about you?"

Dang. I didn't even think about that. "They'll be fine."

"You don't talk about your family much," Brandon notices.

"Nothing to talk about," I dismiss quickly.

"I don't like talking about my family either," he says.

"My family has been defining me for too long," I say thoughtfully.

He sets down a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in front of me. After grabbing a plate for himself, he sits down next to me. When I'm done I put my plate and glass in the sink. "Where did you learn to cook? That was delicious," I praise. I would know since we top chefs cook for us.

"Learned from my mother," Brandon answers.

"Maybe you could teach me sometime," I suggest.

I sit back down next to him. "Okay." Before either of us can say anything, his phone rings. Brandon excuses himself before answering it. I can tell it's a work related call because of how professional his tone is.

"What was that about?" I ask when he's done.

"They need me at work," he says.

"I need to get back home anyway," I say sadly. "Let's do this again?"

"Definitely," Brandon says.

I dreadfully drive home. Mom doesn't like when I disappear, which I do quite often. She says she is worried about me when I'm gone for awhile. Who knows what her real reasons are.

"Miracle!" I hear Mom scream as soon as I step inside the house.

She storms to where I am. "Hey Mom," I say dryly.

"Where have you been all yesterday?" she yells in my face.

"With a friend," I answer bluntly.

"With a friend? I don't know this friend. Something could've happened to you."

I roll my eyes. "I'm okay and the friend is actually my boyfriend," I mention.

"Boyfriend?," Mom says incredulously.

"What, you don't think someone could like me?"

"Why is it that all my daughters want to run off with boyfriends they just met? It's like I didn't teach you right," she says.

"We all picked really good guys to date. No need to worry," I tell her.

"That still doesn't assure me. I'm most worried about Faith. She's acting like a new person."

I sigh internally. "Faith is the smartest one out of all of us. She will be perfectly fine up in Hollywood. I am going to my room."

"Miracle!" I turn back around. "I love you."

"I love you too," I say half heartedly. Sometimes I don't know if she really means what she says.