Chapter 11

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It was the first time anyone had told me that I won, and I have to admit, it felt great. I was able to finish restocking my aisles on the high from that alone. Because, goodness knows, I was about to give out. 

By the time I was done, I was exhausted. That night, when I left, I found Brayden waiting for me, leaning against his car that he'd parked near the front of the building. When he saw me, he stood up straight. "Hey," he said, almost sounding timid. "Want a ride? It's kind of late."

I looked at him for a moment. "What's the catch?"

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. "There's no catch," he said with a laugh. "I just want to give you a ride home."

I crossed my arms. "So you're telling me that you want to give me a ride - out of pity? I don't need your charity."

He lifted his arms and dropped them to his side with a slap. "Look, I genuinely want to give you a ride home." He opened the passenger door he'd been leaning against and gestured inside. "Get in? Please?"

I sighed and looked away. Charity or not, I appreciated the thought. "Fine." I lowered my arms and got in. He closed the door behind me and then got in on the driver's side. "Why are you giving me a ride, anyway? You know I don't buy that you just suddenly want to take me home."

He stopped at the road. "Left or right?" I pointed left. "Well, I really do want to call a truce. I know that who you've been since I've been here isn't who you really are. Dad's told me enough about the girl he's so proud of for me to know that much."

"If he's told you a lot about me, I don't know what else to tell you. I mean, there's not a lot about me to know."

He shrugged. "I think there is." 

I glanced over at him. He was smiling to himself. I couldn't detect anything in his face or voice that wasn't genuine right then. What was I supposed to do with this information? "Take the next right."

We rode a little bit in silence before he spoke again. "I'm sorry."

I looked at him. "For what?"

"I've done a lot of things, but I think that lowering your pay is somehow connected with your injuries. Am I wrong?"

I took a moment to weigh in my mind how much he deserved to know about me. After a long moment, I made up my mind. "It's just me and my dad, and he doesn't make enough to live on with what he does." As if you could make anything by drinking all day with your friends. Aside from that, it occurred to me that Ii had no idea what he did all day. "He kind of relies on me to make the money."

He waited for a moment before responding. "That doesn't explain why you're hurt. It just tells me why you needed the money."

I sighed. "When I don't bring enough home for us to live on for a week, then this happens. It's the first time this has happened, though. He hasn't been violent towards me." Not since I was small. He didn't need to know that, though. 

Brayden nodded as he watched the road. We rode in silence until we got to my building. He parked on the road and lightly touched my elbow as I started to get out. "Just a moment. Do you forgive me? For what I've done?"

I gave him a long look before looking down instead. "Do you need my forgiveness? You've already apologized."

"I would still like to know if I have it."

I looked up at the window to my apartment. The light was on, but I knew my father wasn't up. It was past his waking hours. But did I forgive the guy that just drove me here? I wanted to say yes. I wanted to be the person that doesn't hold grudges. And I was. I knew I was. I wouldn't hold it against him, but did I truly forgive him for everything? All the arguments, the pay cuts, and the consequences for me that his bad decisions brought with it?

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