Chapter 10
The drive home from the botanical gardens was quieter than usual. Reflective.
Luke kept one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested loosely over the center console. Every now and then his fingers drifted toward Grace's, as if seeking reassurance without quite realizing he was doing it.
Grace let him.
She had no desire to say, See?
She had imagined that moment before—Luke finally witnessing enough to understand why she'd been unsettled for weeks.
In those imagined versions, she'd felt triumphant.
Instead she mostly felt sad. Brooklyn had shown up at yet another wedding event she hadn't been invited to.
Maybe it truly had been a coincidence. Maybe she really did run there every Saturday morning.
The problem wasn't the jog. It was that Grace had immediately believed Brooklyn would appear.
And now...
Luke had too.
"What are you thinking?" Grace asked quietly.
Luke was silent for several seconds. "I'm trying to decide whether I've been unfair to you."
Grace turned toward him. "Luke?—"
"No." His voice was gentle. "Let me finish."
She nodded.
"I keep looking at every individual thing she's done."
"The florist."
"The photographer."
"The venue."
He ticked them off almost absently.
"The dress shop."
Grace watched the road slide past outside her window.
"And every time," he continued, "I've told myself there was an innocent explanation."
"There was."
"Exactly." He glanced at her. "There always is."
Grace waited.
"But..." He frowned. "When you put them all together..."
He didn't finish. He didn't need to. A pattern was no longer just a collection of isolated moments. It was beginning to look like intent.
Luke let out a slow breath. "I should've listened to how it was making you feel instead of trying to decide whether Brooklyn's behavior was objectively inappropriate."
Grace reached across the console and took his hand. "Thank you."
"I don't know what to do about it."
"I don't either." That was the truth.
She had spent weeks wishing Luke would understand. Now that he was beginning to, she realized understanding didn't magically produce a solution.
Three days later, Grace was at work when her assistant knocked lightly on her office door. "Someone dropped this off for you."
Grace looked up from her laptop. Her assistant carried a white bakery box tied with pale blue ribbon. "No card?"
"Just this." She handed Grace a small folded note.
Thinking of you. Wedding planning is stressful, and everyone deserves good cookies.
—Brooklyn
Grace stared at the neat handwriting. Inside the box sat a dozen beautifully decorated sugar cookies shaped like wedding dresses, rings, champagne flutes, and tiny white roses.
Her assistant smiled. "That's sweet."
"It is."
Grace meant it. It was sweet. Thoughtful. Completely impossible to criticize. "She's one of the bridesmaids?"
"Yes."
"You picked well."
Grace smiled politely. "I didn't."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Her assistant looked puzzled. "Oh."
Grace quickly recovered.
"I mean... Luke's family has known her forever."
"That must make planning easier."
Grace almost laughed. Instead she thanked her assistant, waited until she left, then closed the bakery box without eating a single cookie.
That evening, Luke came over after work.
He found the unopened box sitting on Grace's kitchen counter.
"What are these?"
"Brooklyn."
He read the note. His expression was impossible to read. "She brought them to your office?"
"Apparently."
"How'd she know where your office is?" Grace shrugged. "I've mentioned it."
Luke looked at the note again.
Then he set it back on the counter. "You didn't eat one."
"I wasn't hungry."
He studied her face. "That's not why."
Grace sighed. "I don't know how to accept kindness from someone who keeps making me feel like a guest at my own wedding."
Luke leaned against the counter. "I've been thinking about that."
"About what?"
"The phrase you used."
"What phrase?"
"'A guest at my own wedding.'"
Grace looked down.
"It stuck with me." He reached for her hand. "I don't want you to feel that way."
"I know."
"No." He waited until she looked back at him. "I really don't." His voice had changed. There was more weight in it now. More certainty. "I talked to my dad yesterday."
Grace blinked.
"You did?"
Luke nodded. "I didn't mention Brooklyn specifically."
"What did you say?"
"I asked him whether Mom had always relied on Brooklyn this much."
Grace waited.
Luke gave a short, humorless laugh.
"He said, 'Only since she realized Brooklyn was never going to marry you.'"
Grace stared.
"What?"
"My dad thought it was obvious."
Luke looked almost embarrassed. "He said Mom spent years hoping Brooklyn and I would eventually figure things out."
Grace tried to process that. "You never told me."
"I didn't know."
"You honestly didn't?"
He shook his head. "I knew Mom adored Brooklyn." He smiled ruefully. "I didn't realize she'd apparently been planning our wedding in her head for twenty years."
Grace suddenly understood something she'd been missing. Elaine wasn't choosing Brooklyn over Grace. Not consciously. She was clinging to a dream she'd quietly carried for decades. And Brooklyn… Brooklyn had been standing beside her the whole time.
"What did your dad think?"
Luke smiled faintly. "He told me Mom needed to remember whose wedding this actually is."
Grace laughed. "I like your father."
"So do I." Luke's smile faded.
"He also said something else."
"What?"
"He asked whether I'd made you feel like I would always put my family before you."
Grace's heart squeezed.
"What did you say?"
Luke looked down. "I didn't answer right away."
Silence settled between them. Grace knew why. Because there had been moments. Not huge ones. Not unforgivable ones. Enough.
"I've been trying to keep everyone happy," Luke said quietly.
"I know."
"And I think..." He paused. "...I've been asking you to carry the cost of that."
Grace felt tears prick unexpectedly behind her eyes. Not because she was hurt. Because he finally understood. He wasn't talking about Brooklyn anymore, he was talking about himself.
"I'm sorry." She stepped into his arms before he could say anything else. He held her tightly, his chin resting against the top of her head. "I don't need perfect," Grace whispered.
"I know."
"I just need to know you're building a life with me."
"I am."
"And that means..."
He swallowed. "...sometimes disappointing other people."
She nodded against his chest.
"Yes."
The following afternoon, Luke was in the middle of reviewing blueprints when his office phone rang. "Luke Moretti."
"Hi!"
Brooklyn.
He leaned back in his chair.
"Hey."
"I hope I'm not interrupting."
"You've got about five minutes."
"Perfect." She sounded cheerful.
"I just wanted to ask your opinion on something." Luke frowned slightly.
"My opinion?"
"Your engagement party."
He looked out the window toward the construction site below. "What about it?"
"I found the cutest photo display." Luke closed his eyes briefly.
"Brooklyn."
"What?"
"Why are you asking me?" A tiny pause.
"I just..." She laughed softly. "...because I know your family." He heard her exhale. "I guess I've gotten a little carried away." She sounded genuinely embarrassed. "I'm sorry."
Luke rubbed his forehead. "It's okay."
He stopped himself. "No." He corrected it immediately. "It's not okay."
Silence.
"I need you to let Grace lead."
Brooklyn didn't answer.
"Brook?"
When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than he'd ever heard it. "I've never been very good at knowing where I fit anymore." The words caught him off guard. They sounded… Lonely.
Luke's expression softened despite himself. "I'm not asking you to disappear."
"I know."
"I just need you to let us be engaged."
Another long silence.
Then Brooklyn laughed quietly. "I'll do better."
"I appreciate that."
After they hung up, Luke remained staring at the phone for several seconds. He believed she'd meant it. He truly did.
And yet...
For the first time in twenty-nine years… A small, uncomfortable question settled into the back of his mind. If Brooklyn really wanted to help...
Why did she always seem to need a role no one had actually given her?