Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
VALERIA
It’s been two weeks since Valeria last talked to Brooke. After they argued over her taking a last-minute patient, Brooke never called back. Something that shouldn’t shock Valeria, but it does all the same. She knows better by now, but she can’t stop hoping things might somehow be different.
Since the cabin, this has become the sad rhythm of their relationship: they fight, and Brooke disappears.
Sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks or months.
At first, it tore Valeria apart, but the more it’s happened, the more numb she’s become to it.
The first few days still sting, but after several pass without a word, the pain dissolves into a dull acceptance.
It’s there that Valeria realizes how fucked-up this all is.
Because when Brooke inevitably reappears, Valeria is so starved for her love and attention that she bends herself into whatever shape Brooke wants just to prove Brooke made the right decision in coming back.
She knows it’s toxic, knows she should end it, but she’s only ever gotten as far as thinking about it, never actually doing it, and part of her wonders if she’ll ever be strong enough to follow through.
“Earth to Val.” Alejandra waves her hand in front of Valeria’s face, lips pursed.
“You’ve been staring at that drink for, like, five minutes. Are you okay?” Isabella asks.
Valeria gives her a quick nod before tossing back what’s left of the watered-down margarita Clara made for them before breakfast, as all five of them lean against the kitchen island in Clara and Alejandra’s kitchen.
Clara frowns. “Brooke still hasn’t called?”
Valeria shakes her head, feeling her throat tighten.
“She hasn’t, and honestly . . . I don’t know if she will.
Maybe she’ll ghost me again for months, or she’s had enough and won’t reach out to me again.
” The thought springs tears that blur her vision, a deep ache swelling in her throat as she struggles to hold them back.
Lily exhales, rubbing soothing circles on Valeria’s back. “God, I hate when she does this to you.”
“She’s not all bad,” Valeria says quietly. The words slip out, out of pure instinct, a knee-jerk urge to defend Brooke no matter what.
Alejandra’s jaw tightens. Clara squeezes her hand, thumb brushing over her knuckles. Then, Alejandra inhales, steadying herself, and Valeria braces for whatever she’s about to say.
“Val, I love you, but I can’t sit here and pretend this is okay for the sake of not arguing with you.
Every time she leaves, you break, and you turn into someone I barely recognize, and every time she comes back, you forgive her, no questions asked.
What she’s doing isn’t love, Val. It’s manipulation.
I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m saying it because it’s hard watching someone I love get chipped away a little more every time her girlfriend decides she doesn’t agree with something you did.
I’m worried you’re going to warp yourself into whatever she wants until there’s nothing of you left. ”
“I know,” Valeria says softly. There’s no point arguing. Alejandra is right. Valeria knows it’s manipulation. She knows she should be stronger, that she should stop giving in, but she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to do that when it physically pains her not to be with Brooke.
A few days ago, Valeria told Miso’s mom she had a girlfriend, but she isn’t sure that’s true anymore.
She said it out of habit, and now she can’t stop wondering whether she is single.
This state of limbo Brooke always leaves her in, hurts.
Valeria never knows where they stand, or what Brooke is doing when they’re apart .
. . if she’s with someone else. Valeria never asks because deep down, she doesn’t want to know.
It won’t change anything, and it’ll just bruise whatever is left of her heart.
“Val . . . ” Lily says, her voice low. “You don’t deserve to keep hurting.”
“I know,” Valeria whispers again. “But it’s not that simple.”
Alejandra sighs before reaching across the table and taking Valeria’s hand. “It isn’t simple, but it should at least be fair. You give so much to her, and she just . . . takes.”
Valeria nods, staring at a loose piece of skin on her thumb and absently playing with it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sure it must be exhausting hearing about her all the time. The same thing over and over.”
“It’s not,” Lily, Clara, and Alejandra say together, an easy chorus that leaves no room for doubt.
“Just a little,” Isabella says, and Valeria can’t help but chuckle at that.
Lily shakes her head at her girlfriend.
“I miss her so much when she does this that when she comes back, I never want to feel that way again.” The admission summons a dull pressure that spreads from her chest to her shoulders and down her arms, making everything feel heavy.
“Even after everything. I hate that I do, because I don’t know how to break free.
I honestly don’t think I want to. I want her to stop doing this, and for us to be good like before.
” Even as she says it, she struggles to remember a time in her relationship that wasn’t filled with pain.
“I know,” Alejandra says gently. “But missing someone doesn’t mean they’re good for you.
No matter how good the moments in between are, Brooke has proven time and again that she will keep doing this.
It’s her most effective manipulation tactic.
Is that what you picture when you think about a future with someone?
Uncertainty and pain? Not knowing if your wife will ever call back because you decided to take on a patient at the last minute or because you went to our house without discussing it with her first? ”
“No,” Valeria says. She doesn’t need to think about it; the answer is simple.
She knows this thing between her and Brooke isn’t sustainable.
She knows sooner or later, there will be a breaking point, but right now, she’s still sure she did something to highlight all of Brooke’s insecurities.
She doesn’t know what, but she needs to fix it.
Prove to Brooke that she’s safe with her so they can continue with their life plans.
Her friends all look at each other, but no one says a word; there isn’t much more they can tell Valeria that she doesn’t already know or that they haven’t already told her.
So Lily keeps rubbing Valeria’s back gently, while Alejandra strokes her hand, their touch the only thing keeping Valeria from slipping too deeply into the ache.
When they all go home after their usual Sunday brunch, Valeria sinks into her couch and starts replaying her relationship with Brooke like a film.
She runs through their six years together, searching for a clear moment where things went wrong—something obvious she can point to.
But nothing stands out. The memories blur together.
Brooke’s warmth didn’t disappear all at once; it slowly thinned.
Valeria keeps replaying their arguments, trying to figure out what she did to set them off.
She goes over her words, her tone, the timing of everything, convinced there has to be something she did wrong—but she can’t find it.
By the time she notices the light outside fading, the apartment is quiet.
The sky shifts from orange to blue to violet.
Valeria stands and moves through her apartment on autopilot.
The floor creaks under her feet as she makes her way to the bathroom to start her nighttime routine. She flips on the light and squints.
Her reflection looks worn down. Dark circles under her eyes.
Red, tired eyes from crying. She brushes her teeth and lets the same thoughts spiral again.
The texts Brooke never answered. Conversations that just stop.
The way Brooke disappears and comes back as if nothing happened, like it doesn’t leave a mark every time, but Valeria also recognizes that every time it hurts less and less, and she wonders if there’ll be a time when she won’t care.
She spits, rinses, and stares at the sink. Her chest feels tight. Lily’s words, “You don’t deserve to keep hurting,” replay in her head over and over until they settle in.
She knows she deserves better than this constant guessing game. They’ve been together too long for Brooke to keep treating her poorly. Valeria isn’t Brooke’s punching bag, but that’s how it feels, and the longer she sits with it, the clearer it becomes that she’s been letting it happen.
She wishes she could talk to her, to understand, to fix what’s broken, to make it all okay again, but she’s tired—tired of being the only one trying to hold them together. It’s something she would never admit out loud, but alone in the quiet of her bathroom, it’s impossible to ignore.
There is another truth Valeria never says aloud: since all this ghosting started, she pictures Brooke in her future less and less.
The life she once imagined so clearly, years folding gently into years, the two of them growing old together, has lost its shape.
When she tries to look ahead now, Brooke is no longer there.
The picture that remains is simpler and lonelier: just herself.
The silence from Brooke feels heavier tonight.
She tells herself this cannot keep happening, but the thought feels thin and tired.
Nevertheless, an idea does take root: this is Brooke’s last chance.
She owes herself that much. If Brooke can’t bother to stick around, Valeria can’t keep waiting for her.