Chapter Six #2
I give her space, heading back to the kitchen to start dinner.
I’d grabbed some ramen from the store, not the cheap “I’m broke” kind, but the good stuff, the spicy Buldak packets I love mixing with the carbonara ones topped with sunny-side-up eggs and chopped green onions.
Simple, no fuss. And if I remember right, Brooke doesn’t exactly shy away from heat.
She gives me a lazy smile on her way to the bathroom. By the time she comes back, the noodles are nearly done. I’m tearing open the sauce packet when she pauses, holding up a box of tampons I left on the counter.
Her brow arches. “Expecting company?”
I shrug. “I asked you to stay. Figured you might need them.”
Her mouth curves into something halfway between a smirk and a frown. “I can’t decide if that’s sweet or…”
“Practical,” I say, draining the noodles, carefully holding them back with chopsticks instead of a strainer because I like to live dangerously. “I grew up with a single mom and aunts. First time I bought those, I was ten and it was an emergency.”
She laughs, soft and surprised. “You’re cute.”
But then her gaze drops back to the box. “I… won’t need these for-” She cuts herself off mid-sentence, going completely still.
I tilt my head, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
Brooke’s fingers loosen. The box hits the table with a dull thud.
“I… uh…”
Her face drains of colour. I turn the burner off instantly and cross the kitchen to her. “Brooke. What’s wrong?”
Her eyes are wide, panicked. “I found out about my dad when I got back from Paris and I just-” She swallows hard, words tumbling over each other. “I forgot. I forgot to get the morning-after pill.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, voice trembling. “Matthew, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe-”
“It’s okay, Brooke. Breathe,” I say quickly, reaching for her hands.
“It’s okay?” she yells, voice cracking under the weight of hysteria. “It’s okay? Your sperm is probably swimming around in here!” She gestures wildly to her lower stomach, eyes wide and terrified.
I bite back a laugh I know would get me killed. “Brooke… it’s been two weeks. If it’s going anywhere, it’s already reached its destination by now.”
She jabs a finger in my direction, glaring. “Do not be cute right now.”
“Noted,” I say, holding my hands up in surrender. “No jokes. Just breathing.”
Her chest heaves as she paces the floor, fingers in her hair, muttering half-formed thoughts under her breath, two weeks, two weeks, oh my God, how could I forget, while I stand there trying to figure out how the hell to help.
“Hey,” I say softly, stepping closer and gently catching her wrists before she can spiral further. “We don’t even know anything yet. You’re scared; I get it. But panicking isn’t going to change what is or isn’t happening.”
She exhales shakily, voice catching on a sob. “I just… I wasn’t thinking. I was so angry, and sad, and I-”
“Brooke.”
My voice is calm, steady, the opposite of how fast my heart is pounding. I step closer, gently taking her face in my hands and tilting it up so she has to look at me. Her eyes are red and wet and terrified.
“If I hadn’t wanted this,” I say quietly, “I would’ve gotten you the pill myself. In Paris.”
Her breath catches. “What?”
I don’t let go. I don’t let her look away. “I love you.” I'm gonna regret this but I need her to know. “I have loved you and not the popular girl, or the hot one everyone stared at. Not the version of you that the world sees.”
My thumbs brush her cheeks. “I love you,” I say softly. “The girl who didn’t let pride stop her from asking for help. Who shows up, always, without being asked. The one who told Cyrus Kayhill to suck a dick when he asked how you got a nerd to do your homework.”
Her eyes widen, lips parting slightly. She doesn’t know I know that. She didn’t know I was standing just down the hall that day, frozen, listening as she told that asshole that I was twice the man he could ever hope to be.
That was the moment I knew. That we’d gone beyond convenience and notes and study sessions. That what we had was real. That it mattered.
I swallow hard. “I left before graduation so I wouldn’t do this,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I thought if I put distance between us, maybe I’d get over it. Over you. But I didn’t.”
I take a shaky breath, searching her eyes. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But this… this doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
Her head moves before the words even form. A small, desperate shake. “I’m not ready to be a mom, Matthew.”
The words sting more than I expect them to. Still, I force myself to nod. “But it is a possibility. And if it is happening, do you-” The sentence dies halfway out of my mouth. I don’t even know what I’m asking. If she wants to try. If she wants us. If she wants to erase it all.
“I don’t know, okay?” she blurts, her voice breaking. “I don’t know.”
And then she pulls her hands from mine. The absence is immediate, cold where she was warm, empty where I was holding on.
I take a breath, force my voice to stay level. “We can do this,” I say quietly. “Whatever this ends up being. We can figure it out together.”
She shakes her head like she’s trying to shake the words out of the air. “I can’t… I can’t think about that right now.”
“Brooke-”
But she’s already moving. She slips past me, dropping before her bag. She pulls out some pants and puts them on under my shirt, before heading for the door.
Brooke pauses, fingers hovering over the handle. For a second, I think she might turn around. Say something. Anything.
“I just… need some air,” she whispers. And then she’s gone, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
I stand there for a long time, staring at the space where she was, the echo of her words still ringing in my chest. We can do this, I told her.
And we can. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be there for her every step of the way. I’ll keep showing up, even when it gets ugly.
I won’t be like my father. I won’t disappear when things get hard or leave her to raise a child alone.
I’ll be there, if only she lets me.