Chapter 18
The first week of October arrived with crisp mornings and trees just beginning to turn. The wedding was three weeks away. Grace should have been counting down to cake and vows and the pre-honeymoon in Vermont before Italy.
Instead, she was counting invitations, confirming final numbers with vendors, and reminding herself several times a day that she was marrying Luke—not planning a competition with Brooklyn.
It helped that Luke seemed determined to protect that distinction now. He had become almost stubborn about it. If Elaine had a question about flowers, Luke answered, "You'll have to ask Grace."
If one of his cousins texted him about the rehearsal dinner, he forwarded the message to Grace before replying.
If Brooklyn sent him anything wedding-related, he answered only after including Grace in the conversation.
Grace noticed.
So did Brooklyn.
On Wednesday evening, Luke arrived carrying two garment bags. Grace looked up from the dining room table, where she was assembling welcome bags with tiny jars of Vermont maple candy and handwritten itineraries.
"What are those?"
"Tux fittings." He held up the bags triumphantly. "I officially own the least exciting article of clothing I've ever spent this much money on."
Grace laughed. "I want to see."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it’s bad luck to see before the wedding."
She narrowed her eyes. "That’s for the bride. Who told you that?"
"My mother."
Grace rolled her eyes. "Your mother also wanted white gloves for the valet."
"Fair point." He hung the bags carefully over the backs of two chairs before walking over to kiss her. His gaze drifted to the half-finished welcome bags. "You've done all of these?"
"I'm almost finished."
"You've been working for three hours."
Grace shrugged. "I like projects."
Luke looked around the table.
Ribbon.
Maps.
Chocolate.
A welcome letter she'd rewritten four times because she couldn't decide whether it sounded too formal.
He pulled out the chair beside her. "Move over."
"You don't have to help."
"I know." He picked up a roll of ribbon. "But I want to."
For the next hour they worked side by side, talking about everything except the wedding. Luke described a new apprentice who'd somehow managed to install an entire row of cabinets upside down.
Grace confessed she'd accidentally attended the first ten minutes of the wrong Zoom meeting that morning before realizing everyone else worked for a pharmaceutical company.
By the time the last ribbon was tied, her shoulders no longer ached with tension. Luke leaned back in his chair. "I've missed this."
"What?"
"Us."
Grace smiled. "We've been together all week."
"I know. But we've been planning." He looked around the table. "This..." He reached over and nudged her foot beneath the table.
"...this feels like living."
She looked at him for a long moment. "I love you."
"I know."
She laughed. "Still the wrong answer."
He leaned over and kissed her. "I love you too."
The following evening, Luke stopped by his parents' house to help his father move patio furniture into storage before winter. Grace stayed home to finish a presentation.
The Moretti garage door stood open, revealing ladders, gardening tools, and enough holiday decorations to supply a department store. Luke carried the last patio chair inside and set it against the wall.
His father wiped his hands on an old shop rag. "Beer?"
"I've only got twenty minutes."
"So one beer."
Luke laughed. "One."
They settled onto two folding chairs in the garage, watching the sun sink toward the trees. His father took a long drink. "So."
Luke smiled. "So."
"You've looked happier lately."
"I am."
His father nodded. "I noticed."
Silence settled comfortably between them. Finally his father spoke again. "Brooklyn came by yesterday."
Luke looked over. "Yeah?"
"She seemed... different."
"How?"
His father considered the question. "Quieter."
Luke looked down at his bottle.
His father continued. "She asked me if I thought people changed."
Luke frowned. "What did you say?"
"I said I hoped they did."
Luke smiled faintly.
"That's a very Dad answer."
"It usually is."
His father turned toward him. "She also asked whether I thought Grace liked her."
Luke sighed. "I'm guessing you said no."
"I said I thought Grace was trying."
Luke looked surprised. "You think she is?"
His father nodded without hesitation. "I've watched that young woman spend months swallowing things that would've made your mother lose her mind."
Luke laughed. "Probably true."
His father's expression grew thoughtful. "Luke."
"Yeah?"
"I've been wondering something."
"What?"
"When Brooklyn comes to mind..." He chose his words carefully. "...is your first thought still Brooklyn?"
Luke frowned.
"I don't understand."
"Or has it become Grace?" Luke looked out toward the driveway.
He knew exactly what his father meant.
If something funny happened during the day...
If he found a restaurant he loved...
If he heard a song that reminded him of someone...
Who did he instinctively think about telling?
The answer came so quickly it surprised him.
Grace.
Every time.
But it used to be Brooklyn.
His father smiled as he watched understanding spread across his son's face. "That's marriage."
Luke looked down at the beer bottle turning slowly between his palms. "I don't think I realized when it happened."
His father chuckled. "It usually happens before people notice."
As Luke drove home that night, his phone buzzed through the truck's speakers.
Luke almost ignored the call.
Brooklyn.
He glanced at the clock.
7:48.
He answered. d"Hey."
"Hi."
Something in her voice immediately made him sit up a little straighter.
"Are you busy?"
"I'm driving."
A pause.
"I think something's wrong with my furnace."
Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It started making this awful banging sound." She gave a small, nervous laugh. "Then it smelled... hot. I turned it off, but I don't know if I did the right thing."
Luke's contractor brain engaged before anything else. "Did you smell gas?"
"No."
"Smoke?"
"I don't think so."
"Okay." He checked the navigation screen.
She lived barely ten minutes away. "I'll come take a look."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
"But if it's overheating, I don't want you sitting there worrying all night."
"Thank you." The relief in her voice sounded genuine.
"I owe you."
Luke smiled. "You've known me since kindergarten. I think we're past owing each other."
When he hung up, he texted Grace.
Brooklyn thinks her furnace is acting up. I'm just going to make sure her house isn't about to burn down.
Grace's reply came almost immediately.
Okay. Drive safely.
No suspicion.
No accusations.
Just trust.
Luke smiled to himself as he turned onto Brooklyn's street.
Brooklyn opened the door before he reached the porch.
She was barefoot, wearing gray sweatpants and an oversized university sweatshirt he'd seen her wear a hundred times over the years. "Thank you."
"Show me."
She led him downstairs.
Luke crouched beside the furnace, removed the front panel, listened for almost thirty seconds, then looked over his shoulder. "It's fine."
"What?"
He stood.
"The banging you heard was probably the ductwork expanding."
"So..."
"So your house isn't exploding tonight."
Brooklyn let out a long breath. "I feel ridiculous."
"You shouldn't."
"I called you over a noisy furnace."
"I've had people call me because their dishwasher sounded sad."
She laughed. "Is that a real thing?"
Luke washed the dust from his hands at the basement sink.
"You've got another five years before this thing needs replacing."
"Good." She followed him upstairs. "I made tea."
"You didn't have to."
"I already did."
Luke hesitated. There was nothing wrong with sitting for a few minutes. Grace wouldn't mind.
Nothing about tonight felt inappropriate.
He nodded.
"Okay."
They sat across from each other at Brooklyn's small kitchen table. The house was quiet. Rain tapped softly against the windows. For several minutes they talked about ordinary things. The fundraiser. Luke's latest project. A ridiculous town council meeting Brooklyn had attended earlier that week.
It felt...Comfortable. Familiar. Like dozens of conversations they'd had before.
Then Brooklyn looked into her mug and said quietly, "Everything's changing."
Luke smiled. "It usually does around weddings."
"I don't mean the wedding." She looked up. "I mean everything."
He waited.
"My mom's gone." She counted quietly on her fingers. "My dad lives across the country.Hannah just got engaged. I accepted a bigger position at work."
Luke listened.
"And now..." She smiled sadly. "...you're building a whole new life."
Luke nodded slowly. "I am."
Brooklyn traced one finger around the rim of her mug. "Do you ever think about how one decision changes everything?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know." She laughed softly. "I guess I just wonder sometimes."
She looked out the window. "...how different life might've looked if one thing had happened differently."
Luke smiled. "I think everybody wonders that."
"Do they?"
"I do."
She looked back at him. "What about?"
He didn't have to think. "Meeting Grace."
Brooklyn's smile flickered. "If she hadn't walked into your life..." She spoke so quietly he almost didn't hear her. "...what do you think would've happened?"
Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"
She held his eyes. "If she'd never come along..." A long silence settled between them. "...do you think we would've eventually figured it out?"
Luke stared at her. He genuinely didn't understand. "Figured what out?"
Another silence.
Brooklyn looked away first. "You know."
"No." His voice was gentle.
"I don't." She laughed once. A tiny, embarrassed sound. "Us."
The word seemed to echo in the kitchen. Luke felt something inside him shift. Not because he'd suddenly understood.
Because he finally realized he'd been misunderstanding for months. "Brook." His voice was quiet. "I've never..."
He stopped.
Started again.
"I've never thought there was an 'us.'"
Brooklyn closed her eyes. "I know."
"I don't think you do." Luke leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "I love you."
A tiny spark of hope crossed her face.
He saw it.
And it broke his heart.
"I always will."
Her shoulders relaxed.
"But not like that."
The hope disappeared.
Completely.
"I know."
"No."
He shook his head gently. "I don't think you did."
She looked down at her untouched tea. "No." After a long moment, she whispered, "I don't think I did either."
Neither of them spoke.
The rain continued against the windows.
Finally Luke stood. "I should go."
Brooklyn nodded.
She didn't ask him to stay.
At the front door, she opened it before he reached for the handle.
"Luke?"
He turned.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
She smiled sadly. "I think I just asked a question I already knew the answer to."
Luke looked at her for a long moment.
"I don't want to lose you in my life." The words escaped before he could stop them.
Brooklyn's eyes filled.
"You already did." She gave him a small, heartbreaking smile. "You just didn't know it yet."
Luke drove home in complete silence.
For the first time since he'd proposed to Grace...he wasn't wondering whether Brooklyn was simply having trouble adjusting.
He finally understood there had been something much deeper underneath it all. And somehow...that realization made him more sad than angry