Chapter 15
Her mind was still stuck in her parents’ living room, lungs tight from biting her tongue and holding her breath.
Their words had followed her out like smoke, clinging to her skin, her clothes, her chest.
Her feelings were in pieces.
Parents could hurt you in ways no one else could. It didn’t matter how grown you were, their disappointment still cut deep.
And the worst part?
Sometimes they didn’t even know they’d done it. This was one of those moments. Her parents had extended grace and comfort to everyone but her. And she just couldn't wrap her head around it.
This led her to seeking it elsewhere. Staying too long.
Hanging on to potential. It wasn't her parents fault.
She could've left years ago but loyalty was a bitch.
She'd fallen into the warped thinking that this was just the wayit was.
A rough patch. But that rough patch was now feeling like a full on drought.
She'd stared at her phone for, unsure who to call. She’d scrolled through her contacts, Blake, Paige, Kennedi hovering over each name before moving on. It felt like the night she got stranded all over.
The same fears present, calling them meant explaining everything, admitting how much she’d been holding in. And she just didn’t have the time or patience for that.
It had taken her ten minutes to admit she wanted to call Brooks. Even longer to accept
that he would answer. Because he always did. And wasn’t that the real problem? She been dragging her feet when it came to giving him what he wanted. What he deserved.
When Brooks made love to her, he’d taken a piece of her and tucked it away.
She still hadn’t figured out if she even wanted it returned.
When she’d finally called him, she’d half-hoped he wouldn’t pick up.
Because if Brooks rejected her, it would be easier to pretend she didn’t need him. Didn’t want him. But he had answered.
Now she was, about to board a plane to Denver, because he cared more about her than he did his own feelings. Her running sent her right to his arms. The only place she didn’t have to pretend.
She couldn’t believe she was about to fly across the country to be with him. This was a different kind of life, a different kind of treatment. A man knowing you needed him and making damn sure you got to him. She glanced at her overnight bag, lips curving.
All she wanted was to see him.
To feel Brooks’ arms around her.
To let his touch undo the wreckage her parents had left behind.
Their words still rang in her ears—piercing, unyielding .
“A divorce? Taylor, you made a vow before God. Why didn’t you come to us first?” her mother shrieked coming from the kitchen to look at her.
“I didn’t have to.. I didn’t need what y’all are doing now.”
Her daddy hadn’t even looked at her when she said it.
Just sat in that old leather chair like she’d cursed the family name.
Like her pain was an inconvenience.
“What we’re doing? Excuse me, Taylor, you just waltz in here dropping that on us and expect us not to have questions? We’re just concerned.”
“I expected you to have the questions and be concerned when my husband was getting DUI’s, barely coming home, when he wasn’t able to pick me up from work. You don’t get to have questions a day late and a dollar short.”
Her mom walked off and she didn’t go after her. Her father was shifting.
“Marriage is work, Taylor. You think your mama and I didn’t have hard times?”
“And if you were the one out drinking, jobless, staying out all night?
“If you embarrassed Mama the way Tyree embarrassed me, I wonder, would she still be sitting here?”
She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but it rose anyway. She was ready to get into it.
“And if she would be I love that for her, but I don’t want that for me. And y’all shouldn’t either.”
Her father’s face hardened.
Her mother just washed dishes harder. The truth was no longer something they could run from. It was here and here to stay.
“Have you prayed about this?” her mother asked softly.
“I stayed. Longer than I should have.” Was all that Taylor offered.
If they couldn’t see past this blind loyalty she wouldn’t be explaining further. It was clear she wouldn’t get what she came for.
No comfort.
No support.
Just judgment.
“Tyree’s a good man who’s lost his way,” her father offered, quiet.
Taylor stood, her time here was up.
“Then y’all help him find it. I’m done being his compass. He’s slowing me down.”
Her mother smirked.
Her father blinked.
Neither spoke.
Taylor grabbed her keys and walked out before they could see her tears.
Now, sitting in the airport watching planes take off, Taylor felt tears threatening again.
She was too old for this type of crying.
She needed to shed the sadness. She needed to free herself of all that she had been holding.
Her phone buzzed with another message from her mama.
Probably another Bible verse about perseverance. She didn’t open it.
Instead, she pulled up Brooks’ last text: Can’t wait to see you, girl.
“First class passengers for Flight 1463 to Denver, we’re now boarding.”
Taylor smiled despite herself, shaking her head at Brooks’ insistence on first class despite her protests. She’d told him economy was fine, that she didn’t need special treatment.
He hadn’t flown economy, and neither would she.
She stood and pulled her cardigan closed.
She’d gone with a black jumpsuit and oversized floor length cardigan.
The thick tube socks and fresh New Balances completed her look, practical but still put together.
She’d learned long ago how to appear flawless even when falling apart inside.
She stopped and snapped a picture of herself blowing Brooks a kiss. She couldn’t wait to see him either.
As Taylor made her way to her seat, she found herself quietly measuring Brooks against everyone else who’d been in her life.
Her parents, who loved their perfect idea of her more than who she actually was.
Tyree, who loved only what she could provide.
Even her friends, who often accepted the carefully curated version she showed without question, never looking deeper, never pushing beyond what was comfortable.
But it wasn't their job to read her mind or break down her walls—that was hers. Brooks was different because he didn’t wait for permission to see her truth; he just did. And for once, she didn't feel the need to hide.
He understood she was something special but never fragile.
He’d kept it real with her from day one.
She needed to get rid of the zero. She giggled thinking about how he called Tyree a bum and refused to address her if it wasn’t her maiden name.
He was crazy and she liked it. Brooks never asked her to be smaller or quieter or more of anything that wasn’t authentic to her.
He just wanted her to be Taylor whoever that turned out to be.
Pretty Gurl Freestyle Taylor or Fred Hammond Taylor, he’d eat her up anyway she came.
As the plane lifted off, Taylor closed her eyes and let her head rest against the plush first-class seat. The day’s weight began to lift from her shoulders.
“What a dream,” she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. Whether she meant the seat, the escape, or the man waiting for her in Denver, she wasn’t entirely sure.
By the time she touched down, almost three hours later, her nerves had settled a bit. She moved through the terminal on autopilot, heart thudding steadily in her chest, eyes scanning for the one face she actually wanted to see.
Taylor took in her surroundings before she spotted him.
Brooks stood near the entrance of baggage claim, towering over the crowd in dark creased jeans and a fitted black hoodie that he filled perfectly.
He was scrolling through his phone, fac bunched up, focused on something.
Even from a distance, she could see the gold Cuban Link necklace peeking from under his collar and the heavy watch glinting on his wrist.
He was so damn fine.
Then he looked up.
His eyes locked onto hers, and the rest of the airport melted away.
Brooks didn’t move at first. He just stood there, watching her, waiting, letting her come to him. She barely noticed herself moving faster, her bags forgotten the moment she reached him. She inhaled. He smelled as he always did, her safe space.
“Damn, Tay Marie,” Brooks murmured, arms circling her waist, voice a low vibration in her ear. “Took you long enough. ”
He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He leaned back to examine her to make sure his package hadn’t been damaged before reaching him.
“I’m happy to see you,” he said looking in her eyes and kissing her on the lips. That’s when the tears came. In his arms the levee broke. Years of holding it in, of pretending, of being the strong one, all of it cracked wide open.
Brooks held her knowing exactly what this moment meant. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other firm under her butt cheeks. He just hugged her. He didn’t say it would be okay. He didn’t rush her. He just let her be.
“I got you,” he whispered against her hair, and she believed him. “I know you’ve spent years showing up for people who made you question your worth. You ain’t gotta perform here.”
After a moment, she pulled back, wiping at her face, embarrassed. “Your hoodie.”
“Fuck the hoodie.” His thumb brushed a stray tear from her cheek, eyes searching hers. “You good?”
She nodded, then shook her head, then laughed wetly. “I don’t know. But I’m glad I’m here.”
“That’s fair.” He studied her face, taking in the dark circles under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Taylor opened her mouth, then frowned. “I don’t know.”
His eyes narrowed, but his tone stayed calm. “Come on, girl.”