Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
VALERIA
“Brooke?” Valeria asks, breathless—caught somewhere between excitement and disbelief. She almost doesn’t trust her eyes.
“Valeria,” Brooke says tightly, but she isn’t looking at her. Her gaze is fixed on Camila, sharp and dangerous, ready to pounce.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Camila says something, but Valeria doesn’t quite catch it. There is a thin, shrill ringing in her ears, similar to feedback from a bad speaker, and it drowns out everything except the sudden weight in her chest.
Valeria’s attention snaps to Brooke. That look—cold, sharp, and edged with hurt—makes her stomach tighten.
She knows that stare well, knows how Brooke’s mind works.
She can tell Brooke is filling in blanks with worst-case versions of the truth.
Brooke thinks this is a date, or something dangerously close to one.
She thinks Valeria has crossed a line that Valeria promised she wouldn’t.
A rush of panic flares. Valeria wants to explain, to rewind the moment, to reach into Brooke’s head and correct the thought before it hardens into something unfixable.
She parts her lips, then pauses as Brooke turns, her eyes locking on Valeria’s for a brief, burning second, and Valeria knows.
She knows Brooke is going to disappear on her again, and she doesn’t think she can handle that. She can’t let that happen.
“Fuck,” Valeria whispers. “I’m so sorry,” she manages to say to Camila before she runs after Brooke.
“Brooke, wait!” Valeria calls out, but Brooke doesn’t slow down. Her pace only quickens.
Valeria goes out through the backyard fence, the wood scraping her arm as it swings open. She cuts across the front yard at an angle, trying to outpace Brooke instead of following her. Brooke went through the house. That means the front walk, the gate, and then the street.
“Brooke, please!” Valeria says the moment Brooke appears at the front door. Valeria walks toward her, trying to block her way, but Brooke pushes past her.
Valeria stops short, feet rooted to the pavement.
For a heartbeat, she does nothing, caught between instinct and fear.
Maybe she should let Brooke go; chasing her will only make things worse.
Brooke needs space when she’s like this.
Valeria knows that, but she can’t help but think of the last time she let Brooke walk out this angry, how she didn’t hear from her for a year.
Her chest tightens, and the streetlights ahead smear into long halos as tears well and spill over.
Valeria draws in a breath that stutters on the way out, then another, uneven and desperate.
No. Not again, she thinks as she breaks into a jog, breath coming in sharp bursts as she chases Brooke, heart pounding.
Letting her leave is the one mistake she refuses to repeat.
“Brooke!” Valeria shouts.
Brooke stops halfway down the block and turns, arms crossed, jaw set, but her eyes are glossy. “What do you want to say, Valeria?” Her voice cracks.
Valeria swallows past the lump in her throat, trying to catch her breath. “It’s not what you think.”
Brooke lets out a short, humorless laugh.
Valeria takes a step closer. “Brooke, please. She’s a friend. She—she just moved here. She’s only looking to make friends.”
“I don’t care who she is,” Brooke snaps.
Valeria knows her too well to believe that; she sees it in the tightness around Brooke’s mouth.
Brooke cares. Of course she does. Beneath the anger, there’s the slightest flash of relief, so brief it almost disappears the moment it’s there. Valeria clings to that.
She takes a cautious step forward, then another, testing the space between them. Brooke doesn’t back away, and that feels like a victory. She’s closer now than she’s been in weeks, and as silly as it may be, relief floods through Valeria.
Brooke exhales, her shoulders sinking slightly. “I just need . . . space.”
“No.” The word rips out of Valeria.
Brooke blinks, startled. She probably didn’t expect Valeria to fight back.
“You’ve had all the space you could ask for these past few weeks.” Valeria’s voice cracks. “You need to talk to me . . . please.”
Brooke worries at her bottom lip.
“Please.” Valeria reaches for Brooke.
Brooke’s hands close into tight fists, fingernails biting into her palms. Her eyes roam over Valeria’s face. After a few seconds, she says, “Fine. Get in the car.”
Valeria glances back at her car parked in Clara and Alejandra’s driveway. “But I drove here.”
Brooke rolls her eyes, already turning away, already done. She heads straight for her car.
Panic spikes in Valeria’s chest. If Brooke gets in and shuts the door, that might be it. She quickly types a message into the group chat.
Valeria 7:43 p.m.:
Going for a drive with Brooke. My car is in your driveway. If you need to move it, the keys are in my purse by the front door. I’m sorry.
Valeria doesn’t wait for a reply. She shoves her phone in her pocket and jogs after her, yanks the passenger door open, and slips inside before Brooke can say a word.
Valeria doesn’t chance a look at her vibrating phone; she knows it’s probably the girls telling her not to go.
But she’s here now, and Brooke is already pulling out of her parking spot.
Somewhere, dimly, she hopes the girls will understand.
Brooke and Valeria don’t say a word as Brooke drives them through town. The silence is broken only by the turn signal and the soft hum of a song on the radio.
By the time Brooke pulls into her apartment complex, Valeria has resigned herself to silence. She doesn’t want to be the one to break it. She doesn’t know what the right thing to do is; she never really knows with Brooke. Silence has yet to fail her, though.
Once Brooke parks, they climb out of the car and start through the buildings. They walk side by side, but the distance between them is glaring. Valeria can tell Brooke is trying to put as much distance between them as possible, without actually walking away.
They reach Brooke’s door, and the moment Valeria steps inside, it feels less like entering someone else’s apartment and more like crossing into her own.
It’s impossible for it not to. Half the things here were once theirs.
The couch they argued over and bought anyway.
The chipped mug Valeria always reached for without thinking.
The artwork, the shelves, the books. Things that once belonged in the life they built together are now divided between two apartments.
Valeria makes her way to the white couch in the center of the living room and sits. Brooke follows, settling beside her, one leg tucked under her, an arm draped along the back of the couch.
“Talk,” Brooke says, her voice sharp enough to make Valeria flinch.
“I missed you,” Valeria says, frowning. She knows Brooke will probably shrug it off, but she needs to say it anyway. It’s pathetic, maybe, but it’s true.
Brooke lets out a dry laugh, teetering on a scoff. “Please. You looked pretty cozy with her.”
“I told you, she’s a friend.”
Brooke tilts her head, eyes narrowing. She doesn’t believe her. Valeria will say it as many times as she needs to, because it’s true and she needs Brooke to understand.
“Just a friend, Brooke. I promise.”
Brooke’s lips part as if she’s about to speak, but Valeria cuts her off before the words can form. She knows what Brooke wants to say—the same old argument, the same concern, the same doubt, dressed up in new words—and honestly, she doesn’t want to hear it.
Her voice comes out tight, with a slight edge of panic.
“Brooke, I’m not seeing her or anyone else.
” She swallows, fingers curling at her sides.
“I promised you I wouldn’t, and I meant it.
” Her gaze drops for a second before lifting again, almost pleading.
“I’ve kept that promise—every day. Even when we’re apart, it’s still just you.
I love you. You’re the only one I want, and if there’s a tiny chance you’ll come back to me, I will always wait.
” Valeria gently strokes Brooke’s cheek with the back of her fingers, and Brooke’s gaze snaps away.
After a few seconds, it comes back, searching Valeria’s face, her jaw working, thoughts racing behind her deep blues.
Finally, Brooke exhales softly, tension slowly draining from her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” she says at last, her voice cracking on the words.
“I’m sorry, I know that, but when I saw you with her, something in me unraveled.
My mind ran to places I didn’t want it to go, places I couldn’t pull myself back from.
The thought of you with someone else hurts more than I know how to deal with.
” Her voice falters. “And even though you’ve told me you won’t date around when we’re separated, every time we fight and stop talking, that fear is always in the back of my mind.
I know we’re complicated, but I don’t want to lose you. ”
“Then stop leaving,” Valeria says quietly, scooting closer. Brooke doesn’t back away, but she doesn’t reach for her either, and to Valeria, that’s a lifeline.
“It helps me to be away from you when we’re arguing,” Brooke says, guilt laced into every word.
“When things get tense, I just . . . I need space to breathe. To try and see things the way you do. Then, when I’ve calmed down, I don’t know how to come back.
” Her eyes glisten. “So I stay away, even when it’s killing me.
Even when all I want is you, it’s torture. I swear it is.”
“I know,” Valeria whispers. “It’s torture for me, too.”
“I missed you,” Brooke murmurs, finally breaking, wrapping her arms around Valeria, and holding on to her tightly. Valeria pulls her close, breathing in her scent, grounding herself in it.
“I don’t know how we keep ending up here,” Valeria says, her voice soft against the curve of Brooke’s neck. “No matter what we do, we always circle back to the same fights.”