Chapter 9 #3
Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you picking up your damn phone?” Her voice is loud and stern—not enough to make a scene, but enough to make Valeria’s chest tighten. “I’ve called you twenty times. Twenty. I thought something happened to you.”
She doesn’t wait for Valeria to answer before she barrels on.
“I came to ask Maria if she’d heard from you, because no one at the clinic knew where you were. No one. So please,” she says, stepping in closer, “explain to me what the hell you’re doing here.” She glances toward Camila. “And what the hell is so important that you couldn’t look at your phone?”
Valeria’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. Her brain scrambles, tripping over explanations, excuses, anything—but all of it feels flimsy under the heat of Brooke’s stare.
“I—Brooke, calm down,” Valeria manages, hands lifting slightly. “I’m fine. I—I didn’t hear my phone and I—”
“Oh, you didn’t hear your phone,” she snaps, loud enough that a couple of people at nearby tables glance over. “Great. Fantastic. That explains absolutely nothing.”
Camila shifts behind Valeria, her chair squeaking against the floor. She can feel her watching them, probably unsure whether she should look away, stand up, or say something.
Brooke’s eyes land on her again—quick but sharp—before landing back on Valeria.
“You disappear in the middle of your work day, you don’t tell anyone where you’re going, no one at work knows anything, I’m calling you nonstop, and you’re just—” She throws a hand in the air. “Here?”
“It’s not—” Valeria starts, but Brooke cuts her off.
“I don’t want your excuses,” Brooke spits the words out like they taste bad.
Valeria turns as Camila tenses, and her shoulders go rigid, too. Heat creeps up the back of her neck at the fact that Camila has a front-row seat to Brooke handing Valeria her own ass. She feels like a kid being scolded, and she hates how small it makes her feel. It’s embarrassing.
“Brooke,” Valeria says, more firmly this time, “You need to relax.”
“Don’t,” she fires back instantly. “Don’t tell me to relax. Not when I’ve been panicking all afternoon.”
“Brooke, I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“Save it.”
“Hey,” Camila cuts in, voice steady, “I’m sorry, I asked her to lunch because I’m waiting for my meeting with Isabella, and I was already in the area—”
“I’m not fucking speaking to you,” Brooke snaps at Camila.
Camila’s mouth snaps shut, her jaw tightening.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Valeria says gently. “If you’re going to be mad at anyone, let it be me.”
Brooke rolls her eyes.
Camila inhales sharply, like she’s about to argue, but her eyes drift to Valeria, and something softens. She nods once, more to herself than to either of them.
“Okay,” she says quietly, standing and brushing her hands on her jeans. “You two clearly need to talk. We can . . . figure this out later.”
“Camila,” Valeria says, reaching out instinctively. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you who should be sorry,” Camila says sternly.
Brooke scoffs.
Camila gives Valeria a small, reassuring smile, though she can easily see the discomfort written all over her. Valeria’s gaze drops, unable to keep her eyes on Camila, feeling more embarrassed than she knows how to handle, and it’s like Camila knows it.
“It’s fine. Really. Text me later, okay?”
Valeria nods.
“Unbelievable,” Brooke says under her breath, and Camila pointedly ignores her and steps around the table. She hesitates—long enough to meet Valeria’s eyes—then heads toward her car, leaving her standing in the middle of the sitting area with Brooke’s anger radiating off her.
Before Camila is out of sight, Brooke lets out a harsh breath—one she’s clearly been holding in.
“I cannot believe this,” she says, voice cracking right down the middle.
“I can’t believe you,” Valeria says quickly, but Brooke talks right over her.
“Oh, that’s rich.” Brooke’s voice jumps, louder than before. Heads turn, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were leaving your office?”
“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to leave work.”
“Oh, sure, make me sound like the bad guy.”
“Brooke, you’re being ridiculous—”
“Am I?” She laughs—harsh, humorless. “Because I don’t think you’d like this if roles were reversed.”
“You know that’s not true.” Valeria crosses her arms, challenging Brooke to tell her she’s lying.
Brooke freezes for a moment as the words settle, because she knows there’s no world where that would be true. Valeria can see her mind working to conjure a reason to keep the argument going.
“You didn’t tell me, because you’re cheating.”
The word slaps the air between them cold, and Valeria’s stomach drops.
“That’s a reach, Brooke. One you can’t possibly believe.”
“Really?” Her eyes flash, and she steps closer, crowding Valeria’s space.
“Because this”—she gestures wildly at the table, the plates, the empty glasses—“is exactly the kind of shit my ex used to pull. Sneaking around, making excuses, ‘it’s just lunch,’ ‘it’s not what it looks like,’ ‘she’s just a friend.
’ And I’m standing here like ridiculous thinking you’re different. ”
Valeria feels heat rise to her face, anger and shock twisting together. “I’m not your ex.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Brooke spits, her voice shaking now.
“I can’t believe this is happening again.
” Brooke’s hands go to her hair, gripping it like she’s trying to keep herself from unraveling completely.
She looks furious, yes, but also scared.
Betrayed. She takes a shaky breath, eyes narrowing on Valeria.
“I trusted you,” she says quietly. “And this is what I walk into.”
Valeria’s chest tightens so hard it hurts.
“Brooke, stop,” she says, louder than she means to. Her voice trembles, but she doesn’t back down. “You need to stop acting like you caught me doing something dirty behind your back.” Brooke opens her mouth, probably to rebut, but Valeria keeps going.
“This wasn’t me sneaking around. It’s nothing like what your ex did to you.
Camila asked me to lunch because she was in the area for her meeting with Isabella.
That’s it. I didn’t lie. I didn’t hide anything.
If I had seen you call, I would have told you I was here with her.
You’re building this whole story in your head that just isn’t real. ”
Brooke scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“I get that you have triggers and that maybe I set one off. I apologize for that. I never want to make you feel unsafe,” Valeria says, voice softer. “But that doesn’t give you the right to come in here and accuse me of cheating. Or compare me to your ex. That’s not fair, Brooke.”
Her jaw tightens, her nostrils flaring, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not her,” Valeria says, slower. “I’m not going to apologize for something I didn’t do. You don’t get to rewrite reality. I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m allowed to go out with a friend without needing your permission beforehand.”
Brooke swallows hard, her shoulders lifting and falling in a shaky breath.
“Look at me,” Valeria adds, softer still. “I’m right here. I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t doing anything behind your back. You know that, because you know me, but if what you’re looking for is an excuse to leave, then tell me.”
The anger in Brooke’s eyes dims slowly until her shoulders drop completely.
“It’s not. You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t believe it. I don’t know why I said it.”
Valeria moves in to hug her, wrapping her tightly in her arms. “It’s okay,” she murmurs.
Brooke leans into her, and they stay like that for a few minutes as Brooke whispers all sorts of apologies into Valeria’s hair until her phone rings, and her assistant tells her that her 3 p.m. meeting has been moved up by an hour.
“I have to go, but I’ll see you later?”
Valeria nods, and they kiss goodbye.
“Everything okay?” Maria Jose asks, standing next to Valeria, wrapping an arm around her.
Valeria nods, and Maria Jose gives her a tight-lipped smile like she doesn’t fully believe her, but doesn’t push it.
Valeria has done everything in her power to keep her arguments and worst moments with Brooke off both her moms’ radars.
If they knew half the things she and Brooke have been through, they’d lock her up and never let her out.
This is too close for comfort, and she can only hope MaJo chalks it up to a simple argument.