Chapter 28
Fear collapsed under a wave of relief, and I threw my arms around his neck. Evidently in some kind of shock, Broderick staggered a step before returning my embrace, wrapping those muscular arms around my back and tugging me close as he inhaled deeply into my hair.
“Babe, that’s incredible! You’re incredible,” I breathed, cupping the back of his head as we rocked in tight little motions together. Pulling back to look up at him, I grinned, and said, “Congratulations, Brod. That’s amazing.” He nodded yes, but the pinch in his brows adamantly disagreed with the motion. Quirking my head, I asked, “Why don’t you seem excited about that?”
“When they didn’t grant it in August, I—I didn’t think I got it. All that work. All the reviews. I…”
“You’re processing?” He nodded when I said it, but with the way his lip rolled between his teeth, conflict shadowing his eyes, it felt like more than that. “Brod, you gotta say something. You look like you saw a ghost.”
It wasn’t an exaggeration. Haunted eyes fell to mine, that furrow never leaving his brow. “Baby girl,” he rasped, lowering his forehead to mine before brushing our lips together ever so gently. “My entire career has been building up to this point. I was about to give up—did, I guess. I guess they wanted to present it formally before the break and told me they hope I’m feeling better.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “The idea of starting over somewhere fresh didn’t bother me at all, because I didn’t think I’d get it. But…”
When his voice drifted off, icy, liquefied lead shot straight into my spinal column and down my legs, cementing my feet in place as my lips popped open in understanding. “You can’t leave Mistyvale.”
The weightof our additional complication settled in the air between us on the ride to the airport, and through security. He kept his hand in mine, but it didn’t seem like either of us could formulate a sentence, much less a solution. Hell, I’d forgotten all my people skills beyond basic grunts of acknowledgement, and I’d never been more grateful for being on the TSA pre-checklist than I was when I eyed the enormous line at airport security.
We both buzzed on through, that line between his brows evidently a permanent fixture on that beautiful face. Even serious, he was unfairly gorgeous. I never stood a damn chance. But why did it have to come down to our relationship or our careers? All my life, I was told that women could have it all. The job, the family, the love story worth immortalizing on countless dead trees, so it might lend hope to a young woman just beginning her journey.
Lies. All of it.
In the end, one of us would sacrifice the last decade of work to be with the other. Or…
My stomach churned, nausea threatening the deeply unsatisfying burrito I’d forced down once we’d found our gate. Broderick was still doing his best impression of a mime, shoulders curled where he slumped into the uncomfortable airport chair, his eyes trained on the runway beyond great panes of glass. The gray of winter cast soft light across his rich complexion, brightening the eyes I loved so much, even as they were weighed down with choices that were entirely unfair.
He wrapped one arm under the other like a pensive elbow shelf, the other braced atop it so he could cover his mouth.
I’d seen him retreat inside his head countless times over the years, but this was the first time I thought his silence might actually kill me.
“Say something,” I whispered after what felt like a lifetime of letting him stew, my gentle voice evidently yanking him back into the stiff seat. He turned to look at me, the weak smile on his cheeks miles away from reaching his eyes.
“I love you,” he said with such conviction it beguiled the ache in his voice.
“I love you, too.” My whispered echo seemed inadequate, but I needed to say it. Some part of me collapsed in on itself like a rotting pumpkin because I had a horrid feeling I wouldn’t get to say it enough. “We don’t have to solve everything right now, do we?” A nondescript turn of his head, and flexed muscle in his jaw, were his only responses. Rocking my weight forward onto the balls of my feet, I began nervously bouncing my leg before collapsing back into my seat in defeat. “I just want to pretend this is real. Just… until we leave Florida. Pretend we can both be happy.”
“Baby, this is real,” he rasped. “You’re the only part of my life I am certain of.”
“Then… why isn’t this easier? I thought a good relationship would actually make sense.” The speakers crackled to life as airline attendants called names and gave instructions for the flight before ours.
“The relationship, and the extenuating circumstances, are two very different things. Or so our predicament suggests.”
“You’re using your professor voice,” I pointed out. He made a noise I thought was supposed to be a laugh but sounded too forced and pained to be one. His eyes fell to his lap as he stretched his arm around my shoulders—the contact lending some semblance of ease where panic had shredded my sanity—and I nestled closer under the safety of his wing.
“I’m sorry. I’m—I guess I’m not used to having someone else to think about when my brain is trying to process. Explaining my emotions has never been my strong suit. I can handle logic, but this… not so much.” The confession felt raw, given the absolute pandemonium around us. Chicago’s O’Hare was certainly the last place I would have selected to have a heart-to-heart, with its bustling concourse and overflowing waiting areas as more and more flights were delayed because of inclement winter weather. Not sure how to respond, I glanced at the ticking screen, relieved that at least our flight to Tampa would still arrive on time.
“Can you try?” I finally asked, turning to weave my legs over his, irritated by the placement of the immovable arm rest. He finally dropped his hand away from his mouth, as though he’d been holding all the words inside.
“I don’t know the answers yet, El. I want to say it’s easy. Want to tell you it doesn’t change anything.”
“But it does,” I supplied, my throat aching as I swallowed down the unintentional injury the words inflicted.
“I just worked so damn hard for that professional validation. The security of it.” He shook his head, jaw feathering again. I wanted to smooth out the lines on his forehead, only that thought made me realize I needed to relax the muscles in mine. They ached like I’d been pinching pennies between my brows. Finally, he turned to meet my eyes, an echo of my trepidation reflected at me there. “This feels like some kind of cosmic joke. Start over after twelve years of school and nearly six years of teaching, or wedge myself into a long-distance relationship with the woman of my dreams? If there is a god, it certainly has a sense of humor.”
We toucheddown on the Tampa tarmac with a jolt, and Broderick wordlessly squeezed the back of my neck in reassurance. Florida was known for very few things more than their bipolar weather, which meant the descent had been bumpy, at best. At least it was an accurate depiction of my mental health today.
On the tail end of a long inhale, he managed a one-word question with more hope in his voice than in his eyes. “Beach?”
“They say that answers are often found on the sea.” Hell, even I heard how forced my voice was.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, the first hint at his sincere smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“That’s a yes.” I smiled back at him, hoping for a stroke of genius to strike one of us like lightning. “But coffee first?”
He rose from the aisle seat and unlatched the luggage compartment to retrieve our bags. Hope stirred in my chest as he seemed to thaw out a bit. “At least some things are dependable.”
“Like my love of sunshine and caffeine?” I asked, sliding out into the aisle beside him.
“Yes, like those,” he said, gently setting my bag down and sliding the handle up to pass over to me. “And also, how much I love you.”
Broderick
“People can saywhat they want, but there’s nothing quite like a Florida beach.”
“No, there’s not,” I agreed, sidling up next to El, where she halted in the shallows, surveying the impressive stretch of white sand packed full of people. Music blasting, seagulls cawing, people laughing, and not a single flake of snow or wrap of garland to be seen. It was loud and overwhelming, but the sun was as warm on my skin as the sand was on the soles of my feet. I had to hand it to the sunshine state; seeing people with heritage from every corner of the world all in one space was certainly refreshing.
The ride had been…uncomfortably silent.
I didn’t have a suitable answer for us, so I understood why El had spooled herself inside her head, but that didn’t ease the way her withdrawal had me panicking. She was wearing a bright blue two-piece that made those steel-blues pop. Using some kind of witchcraft I didn’t understand, she’d piled her feet of hair into a solitary clip, stray pieces blowing in that hint of breeze the gulf was known for.
The bare, tan strip of skin between her top and expertly tied wrap was just begging me to run my fingers over it. But it felt…wrong. Stiff. Like her formally straight spine, and shoulders pulled back were preparing her for battle, not affection. Like her eyes were on the crowd to avoid me, instead of absorbing the commotion.
“So, this is it,” she whispered. “Our last stolen moment of alone time.”
“I mean, for a bit,” I amended. Clinging to hope that one of us would craft a solution we could both live with.
“For a bit,” she agreed, but the sugared smile on her face didn’t bring any life to her eyes. Vlog face. My gut sank.
“Yeah,” I said, not bothering to hide the fact that the reality of it sucked. Well. Here goes nothing. My Hail Mary pass. “The sooner we rip off the bandage, the sooner I can hold you in public again. So, when should we tell them? Ease into it one at a time, or tackle the entire group together?”
“Um…” She turned down the beach, where laughing kids were flying kites and splashing in the shallow turquoise water. Innocent. Beautifully oblivious to the man trying not to puke as he walked a tightrope. “Listen, Brod.”
Fuck. Me. My stomach sunk like a rock off the pier. “Please don’t say what you’re about to say.” I shook my head, the familiar vice of panic constricting around my body. “Please don’t ‘listen, Brod’ me?—”
“I don’t think we should tell them,” she blurted over the end of my sentence before pressing her palms to her mouth, then smooshing them over her cheeks like she could rub away the emotions in her skull. She brought her hands together in front of her lips as if in prayer, and I watched them as I tempered my voice.
“Don’t ask me to keep lying to them, baby. Please don’t make me do that. I want to parade you around the city—want everyone to know you’re mine. I’ve been working up to telling your brothers how much I love you since I was seventeen.”
“It’s not fair to get their hopes up when the odds of this working in the long run are as grim as they are.”
I straightened my spine, cocking my head as my heart… stopped. Not that she could see it, as she expertly avoided looking at me.
Composing myself, I said, “Christ, baby, you make it sound like one of us got a diagnosis, not offered job security.”
“I know,” she said under her breath, taking slow steps through the shrinking fingers of the waves. I watched the water rush up again, erasing the print of her footfalls with a horrible sinking sensation in my stomach. “But in terms of a functional relationship, being long-distance for nine months a year is about as optimal as a cancer in the body.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, snatching her wrist and tugging her to a halt. The warm waves collided with our feet. Birds yelled as they dove to scavenge prizes from the crowd, and my pulse attempted to slam directly through my skin as my life tried to slip through my fingers as fluidly as the sand between our toes. Suddenly, the blaring sun and chattering voices were too much, pressing against my skin, even as her glossy eyes came to mine.
“I’m saying that I love you. And that because I love you, I cannot rob you of eighteen years of effort. You already gave up the grant trying to give me a leg up.” Those brimming tears crept silently from the corners of her eyes. It should’ve been a crime to make Elora Rhodes cry, I decided. Just watching that dam break sent a hot rod through my chest. I couldn’t help but reach up to wipe them off her cheeks. To my relief, she leaned into my hand as she worried her bottom lip, eyes locking on mine. “I’m also too smart to turn down an endorsement like a television network. This is it, Brod. This is that big break moment. I will not beat the resources and exposure they can throw at this school. Not by a long shot. Not even Paxton could get us in front of this many eyes as often as they will.”
“I would never ask you to give that up,” I assured her, cursing my voice for coming out so weakly. My hands found her waist on autopilot and I finally inhaled when she didn’t resist me pulling our bodies together. “You gotta slow down, Pix. We gotta talk before you just throw out the best thing to happen in my life… unless there’s another reason you don’t want to be together?”
“God, no,” she sighed, brows winging up as her hands came to wipe at her face again. “The logistics are just?—”
“Then hold up. Because I’m not willing to let you go?—”
“And I can’t ask you to give up tenure, Brod. That’s not a minor accomplishment.”
“Fuck.” I freed one hand from where it rested on her back to rub over my jaw.
“Heads up!” A distinctly male voice broke our moment, jerking both of our attention to the side as a football made a beeline for Elora. I spun her behind me, stretching the opposite hand out to catch the ball.
“Jesus,” she barked, hands in front of her face as I clamped my fingers into the laces.
“Damn!” I now realized ‘the voice’ belonged to a grinning young man with a willowy frame and skin a shade darker than Dad’s. When the hell did I become the old guy? “Nice catch, man!” A couple of buddies jauntily sidled up beside him as I tossed it back, earning a, “Thanks!” and a happy wave from the lot of them.
“Have a good one,” I called back.
“Learn how to aim,” El muttered petulantly. Her irritation reminded me of the way Dad was always soothing my mother’s temper, and I narrowed my eyes.
“You and Marley aren’t allowed to be friends.”
She grinned, shaking her head and taking a steadying breath as she tipped her face up to the sun, just breathing it in for a minute.
“So, we have some evaluation ahead of us. Some pro and con lists.”
A little giggle broke free from her lips before she said, “You can say that again. We’re in… a pickle.”
“Okay, this is more than a pickle,” I allotted, earning a watery little laugh.
“But we tackle this together. I didn’t wait my whole damn life for this just to lose you in the end.”
“Me either,” she admitted. “But I don’t have answers for Rhy and James right now.”
“Then we take a few days. We analyze. We talk. We decide together what the hell the best next move is.” I brought my hands up to hold either side of her face. “Right?”
She sucked down a breath before giving me a nod. The tone in her voice said she was still convincing herself as much as me. “Right.”