33. Then

33

THEN

Jack finished buttoning up his shirt while Brooke studied his new pictures hanging on the wall, her hands clasped behind her back. He felt like putting on a tie, just to mark the importance of the day.

He was bringing her home to meet his parents.

He almost wanted to cancel, to lay her back on his bed instead. Since she’d gotten low marks on her last paper, she’d rekindled her love affair with the library. A place where he could no longer join her.

He wouldn’t tell her, but he was chafing against their secret. If they disclosed their relationship, he’d work in the library next to her, take her out for coffee when she needed a break. Jack missed waking up with Brooke, missed the adventures she didn’t have time for until after exams.

And some of the distance made him wonder, when his texts went unanswered or she worked late and didn’t come over after all, if it was only about her studies or if maybe she’d been around for the excitement and didn’t need it—didn’t need him —anymore.

So he’d done the only logical thing and invited her to meet his parents. As his girlfriend. Perhaps it was some desperate play for reassurance, but he genuinely wanted his family to meet Brooke, for her to know them. And to have a space out in the world where they didn’t need to hide.

Jack straightened his collar and Brooke circled in front of him.

“You’re nervous,” she said, a flash of amusement in her eyes. “I’m great at meeting parents. And I’ve already met yours.”

“I know. I want it to go well, is all.”

“It will.” She stood on tiptoes to kiss him.

Jack wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, fighting away the feeling that she was slipping away when she was right here.

“And, well…” He didn’t want to hide his feelings from her. “It’s a big deal to introduce you. I’ve never brought someone home before.”

Brooke tipped her head back, her expression serious, and traced the curve of his jaw with her thumb. Then she pulled from his embrace, turned toward the printer and tugged one sheet of paper from the stack.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she ripped the paper in half with a tearing sound and handed him one piece.

“We’re on the same page, Jack.”

His heart expanded in his chest, bursting with the words I love you , knowing they were too big, too soon. But maybe not so far away, either. “God, I like you,” he said instead, reaching for her. She melted against him, met his kiss with a sweet one of her own. He slipped his fingers under her necklaces, traced the curve of her neck.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said, tugging his hand.

Jack folded the paper and tucked it into his wallet.

They took the bus to Fife and walked down the lane in the December sunshine until they reached his parents’ brick house, ivy climbing all the way to the chimney.

“Do you think Gemma will show me baby pictures?” Brooke asked as they climbed the front steps. “Actually middle school would be better.”

He couldn’t handle the nerves and the embarrassment of that . He turned around and headed for the street. “Actually, you’re uninvited.”

“Too late, I’m going in. Your mom’s a fantastic cook.”

Jack jogged up the steps and reached Brooke before she could knock, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the ground. She ran her palms over his jaw and kissed him on the nose.

“Let’s do this, then,” he said. Releasing her, he opened the red front door, yelling, “Mum, we’re home.”

Gemma accosted them in the foyer, smoothing his hair back, and for the first time, Jack didn’t mind. He especially didn’t mind the way she bundled Brooke up in a hug, too, not even waiting for a proper introduction.

“And this is Brooke,” Jack said.

“Aww, you’re making me miss my mom.” Brooke squeezed Gemma back, her eyes a little misty when she met Jack’s.

His eyes got a bit misty, too. Some weight settling around him like this was a moment worth capturing, one he’d commit to memory. That unbearable rightness.

“I know, dear. We met at the footie,” Gemma said, patting Brooke on the arm. “Come in, come in.”

They followed Gemma to the kitchen but Jack didn’t miss the way Brooke tracked the garland wound up the banister or the framed school photos on the walls. She made her way straight for the Christmas tree in the corner of the kitchen, immediately zeroing in on the ornaments with pictures of them as kids. “Oh my god, look at this. Your teeth!”

“Yes, he really has grown into them, hasn’t he?” Gemma said with a laugh.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jack said under his breath. “I’m standing right here.” But he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. This was exactly what he’d hoped for—everyone at ease, like Brooke could fit seamlessly into this weekly tradition he thought he’d rather enjoy with her by his side.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Neil said, striding into the kitchen and clapping Jack on the shoulder. “Pleasure to see you again, Brooke.” He gave her an enthusiastic clasped handshake and she beamed at him as Reid came pounding down the stairs and into the kitchen, lanky in the way Jack had been at seventeen, too.

“Hi. I’m Reid.” He gave Brooke a sheepish smile, and immediately ducked his head, his sandy blond hair falling forward.

“Brooke,” she said and cast a look at Jack, clearly holding back a smile. His youngest brother was adorably tall and apparently flustered by beautiful women.

She turned her attention back to Neil while Gemma fussed with the tea. “You know what I learned recently? That the Tay is the best river in the world for salmon fishing.”

Neil let out a delighted cry. “Quite right, my dear. I once caught an old bloke—thirty pounds he was.” He pulled out a kitchen chair, the legs scraping against the wood floor, and sat down.

Brooke had done her homework like she wanted to impress them. Jack’s heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest.

Gemma set mugs on the island counter, their handles clinking together, in front of where Reid slouched against the countertop.

“Found the way straight to Pops’s heart,” Reid said to Brooke with a grin, and Jack felt a matching one on his lips.

“Oh, we bonded over unicorns at the game, so…” She gave a little shoulder shrug as if this was a completely normal occurrence and also explained a deep connection. Jack was rather smitten with this playful family dynamic, the way she took the pressure off him.

“Fast friends,” Neil said.

Jack pulled out a chair for Brooke at the head of the table and she covered his hand with hers as she moved to sit down, smiling up at him as if to say, See how well it’s going?

And it was. His family was warm and welcoming to strangers from all over the world. Jack had never been particularly worried about this meeting, but he hadn’t expected a view of a future rolling out in front of him, one where he could imagine Brooke joining these Saturday lunches and charming his family, making these gatherings as lovely for him as he suspected they were for everyone else.

Reid passed a steaming mug to Jack, tipping it until the angled plane of brown liquid met the rim. Jack’s hands flew up to catch the scalding liquid and he winced against a burn that never came.

Reid righted the mug at the last minute. “Dinna fash,” he said with a devious smile and handed the mug steadily to Brooke.

She laughed, caught the annoyed look on Jack’s face, and immediately turned it into an unconvincing cough that set off Neil’s booming laughter.

“Ye wee bawbag,” Jack said to his brother.

Gemma settled in her seat with the mauve pink cushion, her hands curled around her mug, looking completely unfazed after a life of raising three boys. “So, Brooke. What are your plans after graduation?”

Brooke sat up straighter, her hands clasped together in her lap. “I want to be a writer. I have a million ideas and so many half-started projects.”

A sting of fear hit Jack in the chest—that his parents might dismiss her ambition or call her passion a hobby. “She’s a fantastic writer,” he said, sending his parents behave-yourselves looks, warning them not to undermine Brooke’s confidence or excitement. But they were looking at her how he did, with full attention and adoration.

“It’s my dream to visit my book in a bookshop one day. Walking into Waterstones and seeing ‘Brooke Sinclair’ on the cover.” She fanned her hand out in front of her as if she was imagining it.

Neil made a quiet snapping sound with his fingers, gazing into the corner of the room, thinking. “Who’s the literary agent we just met on that Highland tour…?”

“Ah, Marty Hendricks?” Reid answered.

“Aye. We’d be happy to connect you.”

“Really?” Brooke damn near bounced in her chair. “That’d be amazing. Thank you.”

Jack squeezed her knee under the table, loving that his parents were being so supportive.

“And how’re classes going for you?” Neil asked Jack.

His instinct was to give as little detail as possible, to skate over the high points until talk turned to something else. But their reaction to Brooke’s dreams made Jack wonder if he’d overexaggerated their perceptions or maybe, like she’d said on that day in the locker room, they’d support his dreams, too.

Perhaps it was the high of this day going even better than he’d imagined, of being here with Brooke as she slipped her hand into his, but suddenly he felt brave enough to tell them the truth.

“Fantastic. And I’ve made some decisions about the spring. I’m planning to pursue photography.”

Brooke squeezed Jack’s hand as Neil’s face split into a grin, and a joy Jack hadn’t dared to wish for rocketed through him.

“That’s wonderful,” Neil said. “We need more photos for the website. The Facebook is really taking off. You could take photos on the tours…”

Jack clenched his eyes against the frustration welling inside him. He wanted to accept the praise, to take it to heart. But it only mattered to his dad as it related to the business. His skill and passion only mattered if it served the greater good. “No, not for The Heart. For me. As my job.”

Neil’s face fell, a look of exhaustion flickering across his features. It was a look so familiar to Jack, but still had the power to knock his feet out from under him. Neil took a long drink of tea, his mustache disappearing inside the cup. The table went silent and Jack’s heart beat like a moth trapped under glass.

“Jack, you belong at The Heart. Ideally as a guide—”

“I don’t want to be a guide.” Maybe he’d never come right out and said it before, but they should’ve known by now. They should’ve seen him.

Reid cleared his throat like he was uncomfortable. Christ , what had Jack been thinking bringing this up? This wasn’t what this day was about; he was wrecking a perfectly pleasant afternoon. He wanted to call back the words, let his mom tell embarrassing stories from childhood that made Brooke laugh, not sit stiffly in her chair like she was trying to figure out the best escape route from the room.

Gemma leaned across the table and placed her hand on Jack’s arm. “Then in some other role.”

Neil looked between Jack and Gemma, his eyebrows furrowed. “This is the entire reason you went to business school.” He had the decency not to mention who was funding said degree. Jack’s heart hammered in his ears. “For stability for you and The Heart. There’s no security in photography.”

Gemma leaned back in her seat, her thumbnail tapping against the ceramic handle of her mug. “We only want what’s best for you, dear.”

Jack swallowed past the thickness in his throat. He should end this conversation. Tell them they’d talk later or agree to their visions for his future, but he needed them to listen. Needed them to hear him. “ This is best for me.”

He longed for the reassurance of Brooke’s smile but was too afraid to find pity or disappointment on her face instead.

Neil ran his fingers over his mustache. “Why is this different from the other times? When you wanted to skip uni to start a rock band or do a farm-stay in Brazil?”

Embarrassment flared through Jack, heat rising through his chest and cheeks. Not only for the lack of faith his dad had in him, and his clearly low opinion of Jack’s decision-making skills—his seriousness—but also that he’d brought Brooke here to witness it. To see his parents’ disappointment firsthand. To hear those hard truths laid bare.

His dad wasn’t wrong about Jack in the past, but he’d changed. He knew now.

“Brooke,” Reid interrupted in an overly loud voice. “Do you want a tour of the house?” Jack was shocked at Reid’s ability to read the room, but profoundly grateful. “Fairly certain I still know where Jack’s box of trinkets he’d never want you to see is hidden,” he said. “Lots of embarrassing secrets.”

That was right here , Jack thought. Laid out on the kitchen table .

When Brooke’s eyes cut to Jack, asking if she wanted him to stay or go, he gestured for her to follow Reid and listened to their footsteps heading up the stairs, louder than his heartbeat in his ears.

“I didn’t want to mention this…especially in front of your brothers…” Neil’s eyes cut to Gemma and she gave him an encouraging nod. “The Heart is in a wee bit of a downturn—that damn McRobbie’s and their hairy coo van…” Neil let out a weary sigh. “You’re clever with the books and damn creative. We need you to work your magic on the accounting side, on the internet .”

Shite. That was the last thing Jack wanted to hear. If his family needed him, if the business was in trouble, could he really walk away? Could he really be that selfish?

Neil ran a hand over his mustache. “Whatever happened to good old word of mouth?” he muttered. “I despise the internet.”

Gemma patted his arm.

“Take your photos, Jack. No one’s saying you can’t. But do them for The Heart and for a hobby. The path is so clear. The Heart is where you fit. We need you.”

He’d longed to hear those words for so long, but he knew they weren’t true. He didn’t fit here at all.

The doorbell rang and Jack let out a sigh of relief that Logan had arrived to steal the attention and lighten the mood. Maybe his mum would pack him and Brooke a take-away lunch and they could escape this hell he’d plunged them into.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and Jack froze when it wasn’t Logan who walked into the kitchen.

It was Mhairi.

She couldn’t know Brooke was here. But he couldn’t exactly rush upstairs and hide her in his childhood room, either. Fuck .

Mhairi wrapped Gemma in a hug, her pale purple sleeves enveloping her sister, and then she was there, reaching for Jack. Over her shoulder, Reid appeared and Jack’s vision went a little blurry as Brooke trailed in behind him.

Mhairi pulled back and must’ve caught his look because she turned around to see who he was staring at—Brooke, gone completely white, her eyes wild.

“Hello, Brooke,” she said evenly before turning around to give Jack a hard look that shriveled his stomach.

“How do you two know each other?” Gemma asked, sounding more confused than delighted, as if she knew her sister well enough to read into Mhairi’s neutral tone.

When Brooke stood there without blinking, Mhairi said, “Brooke is in my creative writing class.”

“Oh…” Gemma said, her eyes skating to Jack. His mum always told him when Mhairi was joining. He hadn’t even considered the risk. He could tell she wanted to pry. Wanted to question how they knew each other, ask what exactly was happening here.

His breathing went sideways. “Shall we sit?” Jack said, pulling out a chair for Brooke.

They settled in around the table and he tried to catch Brooke’s eye, but she was looking away from him like her life depended on it. He didn’t want her to feel like she was on her own here. He reached for her hand under the table but she pulled away, sitting up even straighter.

Jack’s mind thrashed around, not sure what to even do right now or how they could exit immediately. Not that it would matter; the damage was done.

The idea of having it out with Neil was suddenly the least of Jack’s worries.

The lunch passed in an uncomfortably stilted conversation. The second his dad put his fork down, Jack was there, clearing plates. Mhairi followed him into the kitchen and he filled the sink, slipping his hands into the soapy water as she leaned against the counter. He chanced looking at her and her gaze was sharp.

“Is she your student?”

“She’s in the main class, but I’m not her TA.”

Mhairi breathed out heavily. “Still. Have you disclosed your relationship?”

“No.”

“I’m assuming you know, but this creates a great deal of trouble for everyone.”

Jack let out a heavy breath, some mix of guilt and relief that one person in his professional life knew and wouldn’t hurt them with the knowledge. “I do know. But she doesn’t want to. There’s so much stigma associated with this relationship.” He sank his hands back into the water, warming the chill he felt across his whole body.

Mhairi nodded. “The world is still unfair. But regardless, you’re endangering both your futures carrying on like this. You’re in a position of power. You need to protect yourself.”

“Not at her expense. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“Then do it for her. She’s on the short list for my fellowship. I can’t in good conscience select her knowing you two have a relationship the administration isn’t aware of.” Her voice was hard, brooked no discussion.

They stood in silence as Jack scrubbed a plate to a pristine shine, soap sliding between his fingers. He couldn’t endanger Brooke’s dreams—not for the selfish need to be with her. But he couldn’t walk away, either. They hadn’t even made it through this term yet. The idea of another six months without touching Brooke—especially knowing how it felt to be with her—would be impossible. Telling the administration—it was just a note in a folder in an office somewhere. They didn’t need to go out in public together. He didn’t need to sit with her in the library or wrap his arms around her in the coffee line.

Mhairi sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “This wasn’t what I meant when I told you to go after what you wanted.”

Jack snorted without humor. “Believe me, it was not in the plan.”

“These things never are.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Do the right thing, Jack. I can give you two weeks, and then I’m ethically bound to disclose this.”

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