Forever (Empire High Book 8)

Chapter 24

Friday

Brooklyn

“I don’t know if he still owns it,” I said as Matt cut the engine.

“I think he does,” Matt said.

“Well, even if he does, I don’t know if the code will be the same anymore.”

“I think it will be.”

“Really?” I asked. “My father is cold, and cruel, and heartless.” I stared out at the apartment building that my father had bought for my mom when they’d dated. And I knew my words weren’t the entire truth. My father could be warm…to me. He could be kind…to me. And he did love me in his own way.

“He kept the apartment for 16 years,” Matt said. “Who’s to say he hasn’t kept it for another 16?”

I shrugged.

“We don’t know until we try. You said you were missing your mom. We can bring some of her stuff home. We can keep her memory alive too.”

Too.He meant like we were keeping Miller’s memory alive. In a lot of ways, Matt was the same as he was 16 years ago. But he was way more patient now. Way more understanding. He was exactly what I’d needed back in high school. And he was exactly what I needed now. We’d both changed. And somehow we fit together better than ever.

“And it just so happens that we need something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. We can probably find something in there that checks a few of those boxes. What do you say?”

I took a deep breath. I knew what I was really worried about. “What if he got rid of all of it, Matt?” What if all I had left of my mom were some old pictures, my beat up Keds, and my mom’s dress?

“We won’t know until we look.”

I hadn’t spoken to my dad at all since the Halloween party. I’d told him I forgave him, but that I needed time. And for once he was actually respecting my wishes. There was a small piece of me that hoped he’d changed too over the years. But I wasn’t sure he was capable of change.

This wasn’t really about my dad though. Matt had come up with the idea that we should visit here. He’d told me after we washed all the sticky whipped cream off ourselves last night. He knew I was missing my mom. And I hadn’t even thought about this place.

I smiled over at him. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s try.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out of the car. The cool autumn breeze made me shiver.

Matt wrapped his arm around me as we walked into the building. Not much had changed about the entrance. There was still a friendly doorman, although he wasn’t the same person. And no one asked us any questions as we walked over to the elevator.

“So far so good,” Matt said as he hit the button for the right floor.

Sixteen years ago, my father had locked me in this apartment. And I wondered if that was how my mother had felt when they dated. Locked away. A secret. I couldn’t imagine how scared she’d been when she found out she was pregnant. I put my hand on my stomach as the elevator slid to a stop. Matt put in the code.

And…the panel turned red and started blinking.

I felt my shoulders slump. I’d wanted to believe that my father had kept the apartment. I hadn’t meant for this to turn into some kind of strange test. But my father had somehow failed.

Matt looked back down at the paper. “Wait, I think I forgot a number. One sec.” He put the code back in. And this time the panel turned green and the elevator doors slid open.

I swallowed hard. Not a single thing had changed since I’d last been here. I stepped inside and turned in a circle. Everything was pristine and white, minus the couch that we’d pulled into the family room. The couch my mom had picked out. And the door at the end of the hall with all her things was still open instead of locked. I could just make out a hint of her perfume.

“He kept it,” I said.

“Of course he did.”

I looked up at Matt. “How were you so sure?”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t like your father. I don’t think I ever will. And I’ll never understand why he did the things he did. But…” his voice trailed off as he stared at the couch. “…I do believe he did everything because he loves you. And he loves you because you’re a piece of your mom. Just like I love Jacob because he’s a piece of you.”

For so long, I thought my father just wanted me for spare parts. But I knew there was truth in what Matt said. Or else my father would have sold this apartment 32 years ago. “I meant what I said at the Halloween party. I do forgive him. But I just don’t know how to move forward from everything. Justin keeps asking me who’s walking me down the aisle. And I don’t know what to tell him.”

“You don’t need anyone to give you away,” Matt said. “Because you know exactly who you are and what you want. So you can walk down the aisle yourself and right into my arms. Where you belong.”

I smiled. “Right where I belong.” I pressed the side of my face against his chest. Maybe he was right. I didn’t need my father to walk me down the aisle. He didn’t need to give me away. Because he didn’t own me. He never had.

I just didn’t want to regret not asking him. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to ask him to the wedding. But I’d give anything for my mom to be at my wedding. And my uncle. It just seemed like it would be a mistake if I didn’t invite my one living relative.

But I wasn’t here to think about my dad. I was here to keep the memory of my mom alive. I pulled back. “Let’s go find something old and borrowed. And blue if I’m lucky.”

Matt slid his hand into mine and we wandered down the hall and into the room filled with my mom’s things.

The smell of her perfume was stronger in here. And I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. God I missed her.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” Matt dropped my hand and opened a cardboard box.

“This is all stuff she owned before she had me. I kinda just want to look at everything.”

Matt laughed. “We could just bring all of it home with us. I can call a moving company.”

“I don’t know if it’ll all fit.” We needed less stuff, not more. “We don’t even have a room for the baby right now.” I opened a box too and rummaged around through it. There were some clothes, but nothing small enough that I could incorporate into my wedding.

Matt didn’t respond.

“I still want you to be able to paint.” I appreciated that he wanted to transform his studio into the nursery. But painting relieved his stress.

He still didn’t respond.

I rummaged around in the box some more. There was a small velvety jewelry box. I lifted the lid and stared down at the bracelet inside. It was beautiful. It would definitely work as something borrowed. But if it was here…it meant my father had probably given it to her. She’d left it behind for a reason. Did it really count as borrowing something if my mom hadn’t even wanted it anymore? I snapped the lid closed. “Matt, I think I might just wear my Keds on our wedding day.” They’d make me feel close to her. And they were old.

He still didn’t respond.

I turned around. He had a stack of envelopes in his hand. He was frowning as he stared at them. He reached into the box and pushed some things around, the frown on his face deepening.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Isn’t this the address to your uncle’s apartment?”

I closed the distance between us and looked at the envelope on top. “Yeah.” The envelope was addressed to my mom though. And the return address was this apartment, but there was no name.

Matt fanned out the envelopes. They were all addressed to my mom. “None of them are opened.”

I looked down at the box. There were more unopened letters in there. Dozens of them. I picked one up. They’d all been mailed, but “return to sender” was stamped on all of them. “What are all these?” Had my mom mailed herself a bunch of letters for some reason? I squinted at the date on the one in my hand. It was from several months before I was born.

Matt started to open one of them.

“Wait.” I grabbed his hand. This felt like an invasion of privacy. Which I knew was silly, since we were here to go through her things.

“Don’t you want to know what these are?” he asked.

I thought about the letter Miller had left me. It had helped. Maybe these letters would help, even though they didn’t seem like there were for me. But…what if they were for me? Somehow? Someway? Like she knew one day I’d find these when I needed them most. I nodded.

He pulled out the paper and unfolded it. We both read it silently.

My love,

I didn’t mean what I said. Of course I didn’t mean it. Just come home. We’ll figure something out. Us against the world, remember?

-R.P.

“R.P.,” Matt said. “That must stand for Richard Pruitt. Are these all letters your dad sent your mom?” He stared back down at the letters filling the box to the brim.

My heart started racing. I grabbed another envelope and tore it open.

My love,

Please forgive me. Can we just talk? I miss you. I need you.

Yours always,

-R.P.

“Brooklyn…” Matt said. But I grabbed another envelope and tore it open.

My love,

Your brother made it very clear that if I come to the apartment again he’ll call the cops. But I just need to talk to you. I know what I asked you to do was wrong. I know that. And I’m asking you to forgive me. I didn’t mean it. We can leave the city. We’ll start a new life. I just need you to write me back, baby. Tell me yes. Tell me we can start over.

Love always,

-R.P.

“She never opened these,” I said. “They were all returned here. But she was living with my uncle after she broke up with my dad.” I pictured being sick back in high school. My uncle had told me my mother had terrible morning sickness right there in that bathroom. She’d moved in with him after my dad told her to have an abortion. But my dad kept saying he was sorry in these letters. Was he sorry for asking my mom to get rid of me? Is that what he was saying?

“And the thing he’s asking forgiveness for?” Matt asked.

My heart felt funny in my chest. “I think he’s saying sorry for asking her to get rid of me.”

Matt lowered his eyebrows and stared back at the letter in my hand. “He said he was willing to leave the city. He wanted the three of you to be a family, Brooklyn.”

Us against the world.That’s what he’s said in one of the letters. My mom used to say that to me. How many of her other phrases came from her time with him too?

She’d always loved him. Why had she refused to read the letters? Why had she sent them back?

I pressed my lips together. I knew why. Because she chose me. She was strong and brave and she knew what she wanted. Me. I ignored the tears welling in the corners of my eyes and grabbed another letter. And another. And another. So many letters, confessing his love. Begging for a fresh start. Talking about when they first met. The love they shared. Tears started streaming down my cheeks as I grabbed another letter.

My love,

Us against the world. The three of us.

Please let me see you. I’m begging you.

-R.P.

The three of us. I wiped my tears away so none would fall on the words. The letter was dated from a few months before I was born. He was definitely talking about me. There was no doubt in my mind. He’d regretted what he asked my mom to do. He really had wanted to be a family. He had hope that she hadn’t gotten rid of me. He’d been willing to risk everything and run away with her. And she’d never known.

“Matt,” my voice cracked. “My father was trying to apologize. He was trying to take back what he said. He did want me.”

I wasn’t a mistake.

I wasn’t an inconvenience.

He’d wanted to be a part of my life.

“Why didn’t he tell me that?” I asked. “He let me believe him asking her for an abortion was the end of the story. But it wasn’t the end. He tried to fight for her. He tried to fight for me.”

Matt pulled me into a hug. “I don’t know,” he said.

I rested the side of my face against his chest as I stared down at the box. Matt rubbed his hand up and down my back as I tried to make sense of what these letters meant. But there was only one conclusion I could come to: My father wanted me to think he was a monster. Because he felt like one. He’d asked my mom to do something and he regretted it. And for 16 years, he thought my mom had gone through with it. He’d regretted all of it.

I’d already forgiven my father. But these letters? They changed everything. They gave me hope for a future with him in it. He’d wanted me. He’d actually wanted me.

And it wasn’t some manipulative gesture. There was no way my father knew I’d come here. This wasn’t some game where he was using me as a pawn. And that’s what made this real. My father had never meant for me to see these letters. He kept them because he loved my mom. And he regretted not having a life with me in it.

I pulled back and looked up at Matt. “I need to talk to him.”

Matt nodded.

“I can’t believe he tried to win her back.” I hit my father’s name on my phone and pulled it to my ear. I didn’t know what I was going to say. But it didn’t matter, because my call went straight to voicemail.

“How about we just go see him?” Matt asked.

“Is that really okay? He’s put us through so much. I…” my voice trailed off.

Matt shrugged. “He’s your dad, Brooklyn. I get it. If you want to talk to him, I understand. If you want him in our lives, I understand. This is your choice.”

“Thank you.” I heard the sound of a clock ticking down in my head. No. There was actually an old clock sitting in the corner of the room. I wasn’t out of time. I tried to push the sound out of my head as I looked back up at Matt. “Can you grab that box?” I wanted to read the rest of those letters.

***

I knocked on the door again. I knew my dad had sent most of his staff to the Hamptons with Mrs. Pruitt. But wouldn’t they be back now? Since she was gone?

I knocked again.

And again there was no answer.

“Maybe he’s at work,” I said, but then I shook my head. My father had quit the business. Another thing he’d done for me. Seriously, where was he?

Matt glanced at his watch. “Maybe he’s at lunch?”

Yeah. Maybe.I just really needed to talk to him. I had one of the letters folded in my hand. The one that said “the three of us.” I wanted to know why he’d lied about changing his mind about wanting me. He’d tried to fight for me. Just like he’d tried to fight for me when he found out I was alive when I was 16. Just like he gave up his business to fight to be in my life now. What if I’d completely misjudged him?

I lifted my hand to knock again, but the door finally opened.

Donnelley was standing there. “Hey, Brooklyn,” he said. “How are you?”

How was I? Conflicted. Hopeful. Torn. Sorry. Confused. But that wasn’t really what Donnelley was asking. “I’m good. Is my dad here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I swore I heard a bit of sadness in his voice. And then I started to hear the clock in my head again. I looked behind him, expecting to see the old grandfather clock. But it was missing. The apartment looked…empty. Minus the people walking around carrying boxes. What was going on? I turned back to Donnelley. “Where is my dad?”

“He’s gone, Brooklyn.”

Gone?What did he mean gone? I walked past him and into the foyer. There were more people packing up things in the dining room. But I was focused on the empty wall where the portrait of him, Mrs. Pruitt, and Isabella had once hung.

Gone.

The word echoed around in my head.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

The word collided with the sound of the clock ticking down in my head. He couldn’t be gone.

“Brooklyn,” Donnelley said. “He’d hoped you’d come by.”

Hoped. Past tense.I shook my head. No. One of the movers almost bumped into me.

It felt like a fist was gripping my heart. My dad couldn’t be gone. We hadn’t gotten a chance to move forward. I had so many questions. I… No.

This wasn’t happening. I turned away from Donnelley and looked up the stairs. Donnelley was wrong. My father had to still be here. He had to.

“Dad!” I called up the stairs. “Dad?!”

“Brooklyn…” Donnelley put his hand on my shoulder, but I shook him off. He was supposed to protect him. How had this happened?

“Dad!” I yelled and took a step toward the stairs. He had to be up there.

“Baby,” Matt said and grabbed my wrist to stop me from running up the stairs.

I turned toward him. And he looked…haunted. He was staring up the staircase instead of at me. And I wondered if he was reliving something. Reliving the moment he found out that I had “died.” Right here. Sixteen years ago.

Matt had said things to me the day before I disappeared that he regretted.

And here I was 16 years later, regretting what I hadn’t gotten to say to my father.

“He can’t be dead.” My voice cracked. “He…he can’t.

Matt pulled me into a hug.

A sob escaped my throat. I knew Matt said I was loved. That I had family. But my father was my only living relative other than Jacob. He was my family. My only family. And I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him that I loved him.

“What’s wrong?” Donnelley asked calmly.

Of course he wasn’t upset. He was finally free from my father. Miller had said there was no out. But there was…once my dad was dead.

I pulled back from Matt and wiped the tears off my cheeks. “I know you didn’t like him,” I said to Donnelley. “Over the years, I hated him enough for both of us, trust me. But I…I needed to talk to him.” One more time at least.

I gripped the letter in my hand. I’d wasted time with him. Why did I never learn my lesson? Why did I always waste so much fucking time?

“Well, do you want me to call him?” Donnelley asked.

“What?” Matt said.

“I mean, I don’t know if he has service, but we can see if he picks up.”

I shook my head. “Wait. He’s not dead?”

Donnelley laughed. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Because you said that!”

“No I didn’t. I said he was gone. He left a couple days ago.” He laughed again.

“That’s not funny,” I said. “All his stuff is being packed up and you told me he was gone! What was I supposed to think?”

“It’s a little funny,” he said. “We both know Mr. Pruitt is invincible.”

Yeah, now that he had my kidney.“Where did he go?”

“He didn’t really say. He just said he needed a break from the city. I think he wants a fresh start.” Donnelley shrugged. “He’s selling the apartment. That’s why everything is being packed up. Let me give him a call.” He pulled out his phone.

I turned back to Matt. “I thought…”

“Me too,” he said. “This was where I found out about you. On that Friday after Thanksgiving.”

Yeah, I could see it in his eyes. The pain. We were both moving forward, trying out best to leave the past in the past. But the scars would never truly go away. It was a good thing we were going to give Black Friday a new memory in a few weeks. “I’m sorry, Matt.” I wanted to tell him I wish we could rewind time. That the past 16 years hadn’t happened. But he knew I couldn’t say that.

He pulled me back into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re alive. And that your father is too.”

“He didn’t answer,” Donnelley said. “His connection is spotty. It might be a while before we can get ahold of him.”

I kept my arms around Matt. “You have no idea where he is?”

“Oh no, I know where he is. I just don’t know where he’s going yet. I don’t think he even knows. He’s on his yacht.”

I didn’t realize my father had a yacht. “And you don’t know how long he’ll be gone?”

“No idea,” Donnelley said. “He just…I don’t know. I think he’s having a mid-life crisis or something.”

Or he was leaving the city because he’d given up his career for me. And then I told him I still didn’t want him in Jacob’s life. Or mine. He didn’t have anything left in New York.

“I need to reach him before our wedding. I want him to come. Actually, I’d love for you to come too, Donnelley.”

Donnelley looked back and forth between us. And for the first time his eyes settled on the ring on my finger.

I swallowed hard. Because I already knew what he was thinking. That this was a betrayal to Miller.

Donnelley pressed his lips together. “I don’t know, Brooklyn. Miller…”

I pulled back from Matt. “Yeah. No.” I shook my head. I didn’t need him to say the words out loud. But he didn’t understand. Miller wanted me to be happy. He’d want me to keep living. And hadn’t I just reinforced the idea in my mind that time was limited? I wasn’t wasting another second. I cleared my throat. “Of course. I understand.”

Donnelley nodded.

“Actually, Donnelley, if you’d reconsider, I’d really like you to come,” Matt said. “You were friends with Miller. You knew him even before Brooklyn did. It would mean a lot to both of us if you got to know Jacob. He’s going to want to know all your stories about his dad. And we want that too. It would mean a lot to all three of us. The four of us, actually.” He put his hand on my stomach.

All four of us.Every time I thought I couldn’t love Matt more, he surprised me.

Donnelley looked down at my stomach. “You’re pregnant?”

I nodded.

“Is it…is it Miller’s too?”

“No.” It was the same question Rob had asked. I’d wished that I was pregnant after Miller’s death. I’d cried when I’d gotten my period. I understood that hope. And I could tell Donnelley that this wasn’t planned. That we’d never meant for it to happen. But I wasn’t going to justify this to him. I wanted this baby. I needed this baby.

Donnelley turned back to Matt. “Yeah, man. I’ll come. It’s what Miller would have wanted.”

Matt put his hand out for him.

Donnelley hesitated for a moment, but then shook it. “Congrats,” he said. “To both of you.” He turned back to me and smiled.

Donnelley always had been sweet. And for some reason, his approval made me feel better. Almost like talking to the north star always made me feel better.

“And I’ll keep trying to reach Mr. Pruitt for you, Brooklyn,” he said.

“Thank you.” I felt tears welling in the corners of my eyes again. God, every day I felt like I got more emotional.