Chapter 4 #2
This time, he answered, voice lazy, amused. “Speak.”
“You can’t just…”
“Already done.” His tone left no room for debate.
Silence. Then a curious defeated, “Why are you doing this?”
Brooks paused, and flexed his fingers against the steering the wheel, letting the question bounce around in his head.
Why was he doing this? He’d asked himself already but still hadn’t reached a definitive answer.
He could lie. Could brush it off and say it was for Blake.
For community service? But he didn’t owe her a lie.
“Because somebody’s gotta look out for you,” he said finally. “And right now, that’s me.” The line went quiet. But he could almost hear her breathing. He wasn’t sure what made him say it. But he couldn’t take it back.
∞∞∞
“Fine, Brooks.”
“Okay. I’ll call when it get there.”
She giggled. “You still on the line?”
“Uhm... enjoy your day and shit.”
“You too.”
Taylor disconnected and exhaled. She dropped her phone to the desk and held her head in her hands. She gave herself five minutes and got back to work until he let her know he was pulling up.
She made it downstairs in no time, spotting the car, then him stepping out, Black polo, creased jeans, keys dangling from his hand. He didn’t rush. Didn’t need to. Time moved for him.
“Seriously?” She asked, arms crossing as he approached. “You couldn’t just let Marco drop it off?”
“Nah,” Brooks said simply, stopping in front of her. “Didn’t feel right handing this off. Figured if I’m gonna piss you off, I should do it face to face.”
He tossed her the keys.
“It’s yours. No strings.”
She caught them mid-air. Her eyes flicked down, then up to meet his.
“I told you I could figure it out,” she said, almost in a whisper.
“You could,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have to. Two days at Mack’s and your car’s ready. In the meantime, this one gets you where you need to go, without stress. It ain’t a favor. It’s math. You need it. I got it.”
Taylor’s fingers closed around the keys, but her hand trembled. Not visibly, but enough that she could feel the war inside herself. She wasn’t used to help without strings. Without resentment. Without someone reminding her what they’d done.
She stared at the Mercedes like it might bite her.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know,” Brooks replied, smooth as ever. “I wanted to.”
That was the part she didn’t know how to process. Want. Not obligation. Not guilt. Not a man doing it to throw it in her face later.
“You don’t even know me like that,” she said quietly.
Brooks tilted his head. “I know enough.”
She slipped the keys into her bag.
A flicker crossed his face, surprise, maybe even respect, but he just nodded.
“I’ll see you later, Tay,” Brooks said, stepping back as Marco pulled into the lot to scoop him. She watched him walk off, calm, confident, unbothered. He had just disrupted her whole emotional routine and had no qualms about it.
Marco waved politely. She waved back.
“Thank you!” she called after him.
“Don’t mention it,” Brooks called over his shoulder.
“Literally,” she muttered, half-smiling. He winked and just like that he was gone.
She stood there a moment longer, watching him disappear down the drive.
The Mercedes being personally delivered. The expedited repairs. Her head was swimming, heart racing. Brooks’ voice still echoed, lodging itself in a part of her she thought had gone numb.
Worse, she had no one to help her untangle it all.
No confidant to help her understand why her heart raced every time his name illuminated her phone screen.
The silence of her isolation felt suffocating.
She’d wanted to call a million times since they parted ways, but she needed to keep some distance between them.
Their vibe at the Diner was too much for her to handle.
She wasn’t trying to close one chapter just to stumble into the next. She knew Tyree would be calling soon enough, expecting her usual compliance, her automatic rescue. She didn’t need the drama.
She was done tolerating a man who hurt her simply because he could.
But she couldn’t lie, something had changed.
Brooks was allowing her to take up space—for once. And he was doing it effortlessly. Handling challenges before they had a chance to become problems. No hinderance. Just pure, decisive action.
Taylor sighed and headed back.
When the world got too loud, she ran to the one place she could still keep score. Work had rules. Emotions didn’t.
She’d already calmed two execs, rescheduled a surgery, and caught a mistake three people missed—and it still wasn’t enough to hide the fact that she was unraveling. So, when her boss came knocking, she wasn’t surprised. Only tired .
“Taylor, hun. I've heard some things,” Patti said, easing into the seat across from her desk.
“Good or bad?” Taylor asked, already knowing the answer. She’d been slipping—coming in late, zoning out during meetings, letting small tasks pile up while her mind wandered too far off course.
“My sweets, it’s not great, but not the worst,” Patti crossed her legs, leaning forward.
“People are worried. You’ve been different lately.
Late a few times, which isn’t like you at all.
And I heard about what happened with the Thompson file Monday.
” She paused, her voice softening. “Is everything okay? You can talk to me.”
“Just car trouble,” Taylor said, the partial truth soured on her tongue. “My car is in the shop. And it’s been a struggle.”
Now they were in a stare off. Silence filled the room.
“Mmhmm.” Patti’s perfectly arched eyebrow said she wasn’t buying it. “And Tyree can’t drop you off?”
“It’s working itself out a friend is helping out until my car’s fixed. Nothing more to worry about,” she said carefully. She’d already declared she was making this weekend about her. Drinking wine, listening to music, sleeping in. She was not going to be defeated.
“Must be some friend.” Her tone was casual, but her look wasn’t. “Look, honey, I don’t need to know your business. But whatever’s going on? Handle it. You’re too good at what you do to let personal drama affect your work.”
The gentle scold stung, mostly because it was true. Taylor nodded, forcing a smile. “You’re right. I’m sorry about the Thompson file. My wires got crossed. It won’t happen again. ”
“I know it won’t. This place doesn’t run without you. You are valuable ok,” Patti stood, smoothing her skirt. “Listen, you’re going to take the rest of the week off and get yourself together. Paid leave. No arguments. You deserve that.”
“Patti, I can’t. I haven’t had time off in a while. I’ll be so behind.”
“You can and you will. Consider it a mental health incentive. Starting now.” She paused at the door. “Rest.”
“Thank you, Patti. I’ll be back on my A game.”
Another moment of silence. Taylor could see that Patti was conflicted with what to say next. Which made what she said next all the more important.
“I know. Taylor? Sometimes what looks like falling apart is really just things falling into place. Be easy on yourself. Be easy with yourself.”
With that cryptic wisdom, she left, leaving Taylor to sink back in her chair, wondering how her carefully constructed life had become so obviously messy that even her boss could see the cracks.
That pissed her off even more with Tyree.
He was affecting her work, and she didn’t play about that.
Her job meant a lot to her. She’d worked hard to be where she was.
If she lost her job, she’d be expected to work at her parents’ church.
And she couldn’t do that. The thought gave her a headache.
She didn’t leave right away. She just sat there, breathing. Letting herself be still.
A vibration against her desk pulled her from the undertow of her thoughts.
Brooks : My bad if I’m overstepping.
Taylor read the message twice, a slow smile tugging at her lips despite herself.
She shook her head, warmth spreading through her chest. Because Brooks wasn’t overstepping.
He simply existed, efficient and capable, making her life easier without demanding anything in return.
His version of protection wasn’t a performance. It was instinct. Molecular. Absolute.
It wasn’t his fault she didn’t know how to deal with that.
Taylor: I’m just not used to this. What if Blake sees me in your car?
The weight of disrespecting her friend was heavy on her. Outside of her fractured marriage, beyond the mess she had yet to clean up, her friends’ judgment and feelings mattered.
Brooks: You act like we fuckin or something. It’s a car that happens to be mine. What’s the big deal?
Taylor: And the big deal is that I’m still married.
Brooks : Again, it don’t seem like it to me. Matter of fact, quit bringing that nigga up around me or to me. I don’t care about him or the piece of paper tying y’all together.
Taylor: Are you serious?”
Brooks: Dead.
Taylor set the phone down, and laughed to herself. There was something endearing about Brooks having smoke with her husband, a husband he barely knew. But the laugh didn’t last. Because even without touching her, Brooks had her questioning things she thought were non-negotiable.
She wasn’t in love. Not cheating. Not technically. But she had no business entertaining another man, let alone Brooks.
Her heart was moving. Shifting. Cracking open in ways it hadn’t in years—and she couldn’t stop it .
She’d built her identity around being the responsible one. The logical one. The one who didn’t get caught up in mess. She knew God didn’t bless no mess .
So what did it say about her if she could even entertain this?
Still married, technically. But the vows didn’t mean what they used to. Not to him. And now? Not to her either.
What if she hurt Brooks in the process? What if he caught feelings, and she couldn’t meet him there?
A woman who had spent years shrinking herself, making space for a man who took nothing and gave everything, was disrupting her comfort. She needed to get on stable footing and stat. He was everything good after everything hard. The last thing she wanted was to taint something good.