Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Brody
“Yup, this one is great,” I told the realtor with what was probably the most bored expression I’d ever worn.
“Great?” Abbey said, pinching my arm.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine for what I need it for.” I shrugged, looking around at the carpeted apartment floors.
I’d flown back to Michigan for this. To see apartments. Abbey had come along to help, a woman’s eye and all that. But honestly, it didn’t matter. This place was as good as the next.
Sure, the wallpaper was sort of outdated, and the heating system made an obnoxious noise, and maybe it wasn’t the most spacious. But who cared? It was just me, and it didn’t matter.
“What you need it for…” Abbey said incredulously. “You mean a home?”
But it wasn’t going to be a home. I couldn’t picture any type of long-term life in this apartment, but the thing was, I couldn’t in any of the ones I’d seen.
Maybe when the pieces of my life started to click back into place I’d be in the right headspace to find somewhere else.
“This isn’t going to be a ‘forever home’.” I air-quoted with a dramatic expression. “Just a for now one.”
“Well, actually, there’s a real cute condo for sale that might change your mind about that,” she said in a sing-song voice.
“I just want to rent.”
“Excuse us for a second,” she said, tugging me by the arm away from the realtor.
“Look, Brody. Renting doesn’t make any sense if you’re moving here permanently.
And you’re clearly not struggling financially,” she said.
“I think it’s best to start setting down roots right away.
Find yourself a nice home, somewhere you’ll be comfortable in.
Somewhere you can picture yourself raising a family. ”
My stomach lurched. I couldn’t even picture that life anymore if it wasn’t with Maggie. Honestly, what was I supposed to do? Meet some woman in the grocery store and forget that I’d spent the last five years imagining my future with someone else?
God, why did I tell her I was moving to Michigan?
You know why. It’s because you wanted her to ask you not to go.
If she had said she wanted me, it would’ve changed everything.
But she didn’t.
So there I was.
…in Michigan. It fucking sucked.
“I want to leave. I can’t be here right now,” I said. “Let me go sign the papers so I can fly back to Boston.”
I just needed to make the decision and be done with it all. I couldn’t be sitting on some hypothetical fence any longer. The damage was done, the decision was made. As soon as it was official, I’d be able to accept it in a way that I couldn’t now.
“Brody, take a breath,” Abbey said. “You’re being hasty. Just let me show you this other place I found and if you hate it, I promise we can come right back here and I’ll personally move you into this dump myself.”
I would’ve said no, but honestly, I didn’t care either way. It wouldn’t be home. No matter what.
Apathetic had never been a term to describe me, but this entire trip, it was all I felt. And it showed.
“Fine.” I shrugged. “Let’s go check it out.”
“See?” Abbey said proudly, hands on her hips with smugness written all over her face. “This is much nicer, isn’t it?”
It was. Even I had to admit.
“I fell in love with it when I was looking for a new place, but alas, it’s out of my price range.” She feigned a sigh and sat back down onto the couch.
“It is your style,” I had to admit.
“That’s the best part. It comes fully furnished!” she squealed. “The woman who lived here is so rich that she just decided she’ll buy all new furniture in Europe, which, by the way, is where she’s moving. What a dream.”
“You should’ve charmed your way into her life and convinced her to take you with her,” I laughed, watching as Abbey examined the golden frames lining the walls of the apartment.
I wasn’t much of an art guy. But it was pretty to look at. I’d probably leave it up. Besides, Abbey seemed to like it. And if I was moving back home, my old friends would probably come over a lot.
We could do game nights. Or movie nights.
And basically I’d go back in time about fifteen years, resorting to my teenage self.
I knew logically that a ton of people stayed in the towns they grew up in, made a happy life there and lived happily ever after. Maybe even once, I thought I might do the same. But I couldn’t help the sneaking feeling that somehow, I’d outgrown this place.
That I wanted different.
Not just Maggie.
But workouts with Liam. And texting memes to Cassie. And being a part of Lily’s life, and whatever other kids the two of them spawned out over the next few years.
I would miss it. All of it.
“So, do you like it?” Abbey asked, with the realtor staring at me with that billboard-looking smile.
What the hell. It was modestly priced. A ten-minute drive from my parents. There wasn’t anything particularly offensive screaming out at me. Might as well.
“Yes.” I lied. “It’s perfect. Exactly what I was looking for.”
And then, to ensure I didn’t back out of my plan to figure out my life away from the Brynns, I bought the place outright.
The realtor was thrilled. Abbey was thrilled.
I, however, felt like I’d signed my own death certificate. But I figured I’d probably power through that feeling eventually. Hopefully.
We drove back to the airport in relative silence, Michigan passing by in a blur around me.
Shouldn’t I feel something? Nostalgia? Excitement for a new journey? Gratitude to be able to buy a condo for myself so close to my family?
But all I felt was sickening dread.
“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Abbey asked, more matter-of-factly than any real type of question.
“I’m thinking about a lot of things.”
“A lot of things all relating back to her.”
She wasn’t wrong. But then, Abbey had always known me pretty well.
And while I appreciated all the help she’d given me today—driving me around our old neighborhood, picking me from the airport, coming to all of the apartment showings with me…I had to set her straight on something.
Maybe she wasn’t thinking it at all, but either way, it needed to be said.
“Abbey,” I said carefully. “I want you to know that even though I’m coming back home… you and I, we’re not going to pick up where we left off.”
“I sort of figured.” She said. “I saw the way you looked at your ex. I’ve known you a long time… and well, I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that. Not even me. That sort of thing is hard to get over.”
I sucked in a breath. It was harder than she knew.
“Yeah, well. I need to get over it. I think we both need to work on moving forward instead of settling for what’s comfortable. Don’t you think?”
She looked up hesitantly. “I do love you. I always will. You know that.”
I heard the pause in her voice. Not a declaration of love, but a way to brace me for whatever was about to come next.
“But?” I asked.
But, I think you’re right. I don’t think we were ever in love. I mean, not in any real sense of the word.” Her face fell. “Not that what we had wasn’t real for how young we were—”
“No, no, no. Abbey.” I stopped her, a wave of relief washing over me. “You don’t have to explain. I feel the same exact way.”
“You do?” she said, daring to meet my eyes, relief of her own washing over her.
“Yeah. I do.” I said, utterly grateful that I didn’t have to be responsible for breaking her heart.
“So, it’s true, then?” she asked, not hurt or upset. Just curious. “You didn’t love me the way you loved her—Maggie. Did you?”
I exhaled, pressing my eyes shut.
“I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved Maggie.” I admitted. “And I probably never will.”
“Then you shouldn’t let her go.” Abbey said, and when I opened my eyes, I found nothing but sincerity there.
“I didn’t let her go,” I said. “She chose to leave.”
“Take it from a girl who’s seen the two of you together. It’s not over for her.”
I stared at her, half wanting to believe what she was saying, while at the same time not daring to hope it might be true. This was exactly why I was leaving. I couldn’t live the rest of my life half-starved on hopes that might never come true.
No. I needed a fresh start. A clean slate. I had no choice but to leave.
“What about you?” I deflected. “I don’t believe you’ve actually been pining away for me all these years.”
She rolled her eyes, but it didn’t escape my notice when an unmistakable blush rose to her cheeks.
“Ah, there’s someone, isn’t there?” I poked her side.
“No.” She said, too quickly. “I mean, maybe.” She sighed. “I mean, no. Nothing that’ll ever go anywhere.”
“And why not?”
She paused, looking as if she were debating holding it in or letting it all fly out. Predictably, Abbey chose the latter. Or rather, it chose her. I laughed to myself. She’d never been any good at keeping her own secrets. She wore her heart on her sleeve, no matter the cost.
“Because it’s Matt,” she said quickly, “and anytime anything ever got close to happening, he said he couldn’t because he didn’t want to betray you like that.”
“What?” I asked, dumbfounded. “All this time you’ve been crushing on Matt—wait, Matt T. or Matt C.?”
She scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Who do you think?”
I thought about it for a moment, and finally said, “Matt T.” simultaneously with Abbey.
We both erupted into laughter, before a look of guilt passed over her features.
“You don’t hate me for it, do you? I know he’s your friend.”
“What? No. Of course not. I only hate that the both of you have waited so long on my account.”
“So, you’re really okay with it?” she said hopefully.
“Of course I am. You guys never needed my permission.”
“It’s just that, well, we care about you, Brody,” she said, staring at me. “I know you’ve been gone for years, but that doesn’t mean we love you any less.”
“We’re getting old as shit, huh?” I said, feeling all those years that came upon far more suddenly than I ever would’ve thought.
“I guess that means we can’t afford to be wasting any more time, huh?”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means,” she said pointedly, “if you know who you want to be with… then go get her. Can you really tell me it’s over?”
I stared at her, not knowing what to say.
Of course it wasn’t over with Maggie. But that was exactly the problem.
I didn’t know if it ever could be.