Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
VALERIA
Sometimes work crawls by, and other times—like today—it disappears in a blur.
Usually, Valeria would be grateful for days like that, but today, she wants time to stop.
She’s nowhere near ready to see Brooke. Not because of lingering feelings or fear over what seeing her might stir up, but simply because she doesn’t want to.
She’s only doing this to give Brooke her things back and close that chapter of her life for good.
Closure. That’s what Valeria is after. The only thing making this so anxiety-inducing is knowing that Brooke is coming into this meeting with completely different intentions.
Valeria rehearsed what she’d tell Brooke all night—while she tried falling asleep, a bit this morning on her way to work, and again on her drive to the bar she’s meeting Brooke at.
In her head, it all works perfectly. She sits at the table, hands Brooke her things, wishes her a good life, and walks out. But all of that is easier said than done because now that Valeria is in her seat waiting for Brooke, she can barely feel her legs from how violently they’re shaking.
Valeria wanted to bring Camila, have her drop her off, and wait in the parking lot so she could run into her loving arms the second it was all over, but Valeria somehow convinced herself out of it. Told herself she needed to do this on her own.
Just then, Brooke walks through the bar doors, and everything in Valeria stills.
Not in the way it used to when she lost her breath with longing, but in a panicked way, like how a deer goes still when it hears a predator lurking in the bushes.
She feels a lot like that right now. Especially with the way Brooke is looking at her—one eyebrow arched, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips, looking as good as always in a beautifully tailored pantsuit.
In hindsight, Valeria probably should have changed out of her scrubs. She’s covered in drool, with questionable stains all over, looking like too much of a mess for someone trying to prove to their ex that they’re fine without them.
When Brooke reaches Valeria, she smiles brightly and leans in, kissing the top of Valeria’s head. Valeria flinches under it, not wanting any part of Brooke near all the loving places Camila’s lips have been. It’s petty, she knows, but she can’t help it.
“Sorry, I’m late; my meeting ran a little long. You look wonderful, by the way.” Brooke smiles, that sweet, earnest smile Valeria knows well.
“Thanks,” Valeria says, adjusting herself in her seat, pulling her leather jacket tighter over her chest.
“Did you order anything to drink?” Brooke asks, signaling the bartender.
“I didn’t. I’m not staying long,” Valeria says, but it’s like Brooke doesn’t hear her.
“Two dirty martinis, please,” Brooke asks the bartender, who nods before disappearing to make their drinks.
“Brooke, I can’t stay.”
“Okay, I hear you. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure you make it wherever you need to go.” Brooke reaches for Valeria’s hand. “I promise.”
“Brooke,” Valeria sighs, pulling her hand from Brooke’s hold.
“What’s going on?” Brooke asks, eyebrows drawing together.
“Brooke, I didn’t come for that. I came to give you this.” Valeria nudges a carry-on bag toward Brooke.
“What’s this?” Brooke asks, eyeing the bag suspiciously.
“All the things you left at my apartment.”
“I don’t want them back,” Brooke says, scooting backward in her chair like she can’t stand the idea of being near them.
“Well, I’m not keeping them, so toss them or don’t. They’re your things.”
“No, I mean I don’t want them with me; I want these things with you until we figure out what to do about us.”
Valeria sighs. She knew this would come up, prepared herself for it, but she still has a hard time responding.
“Baby,” Brooke says gently, her hand reaching for Valeria’s cheek.
“There is no us, Brooke. There hasn’t been for months, maybe years,” Valeria says, her voice scratchy. Brooke’s hand stalls mid-air, before she places it back over her own lap.
“What are you talking about?” Brooke asks, her shoulders dropping and her body curving in slightly.
“I was in that relationship alone most of the time, watching you go back and forth without a single thought for what that did to me.”
“I know,” Brooke says, her voice softening. “I know I messed up so much, but I’m willing to listen. To fix things. I’ll do whatever I have to . . . tell me how to prove I’m getting better.”
“I hope you are, Brooke,” Valeria says sincerely.
She wants a happy ending for Brooke—one similar to her own with Camila—a healthy love.
“I know there’s so much good about you, and you love hard, but I’m not waiting for the new-and-improved version of you anymore.
I don’t want that. I don’t want this.” Valeria points between them.
“It wouldn’t be like before. I’ve been getting help. I’m managing my stress and anger better. I’m talking through what happened with my ex; it wouldn’t be the same. I promise.”
Valeria’s stomach hardens, and her throat tightens painfully.
For years, she asked Brooke for this. Wanted Brooke to talk to someone, to control her anger so they could be together and continue the plans for their life, but now .
. . “It’s too late, Brooke,” Valeria whispers.
“I don’t want a life with you anymore. You destroyed the last bit of my love for you, and there’s nothing left. ”
The words sound rough even to her. She can’t imagine how they must land on Brooke. Still, they’re Valeria’s truth, and she refuses to apologize for them.
Brooke shakes her head slowly, as if none of what Valeria is saying makes sense. Valeria understands completely—she knows how jarring this must be for Brooke. Valeria has always welcomed her back with open arms, but this time she isn’t . . . and she never will again.
Brooke’s gaze finally lifts, meeting Valeria’s. It’s a look of raw hurt at the definitive barrier that Valeria has erected between them.
“I don’t understand. I love you.”
“I loved you, Brooke, so much I let you tear me apart just to be with you.”
“How? How have you fallen out of love with me? We were together for six years.” A gentle sob breaks from Brooke’s lips, and her hand flies to her throat, holding tightly, as if she’s physically keeping more from making their way out.
“It’s been over a year since we broke up,” Valeria says, slightly offended.
Like she’s done something wrong for moving on.
As if the hurt Brooke caused isn’t valid, “I fell out of love little by little, through years of you mistreating me and hurting me. This didn’t happen out of the blue; it was constant and imperceptible, even to me, until it wasn’t. ”
The weight of the words, the slow erosion of feeling, settles in Valeria’s chest like a stone as she remembers each harsh word, each rejection, that had chipped away at the foundation of her love, until there was nothing left.
Brooke struggles for breath before saying, “I don’t believe that. It has to be something else.”
Valeria shakes her head. “It isn’t, Brooke,” she says, as she hops off the stool just as the bartender drops off their drinks. “I should go, but I wish you so much good, B.”
Valeria turns then, ready to leave this all behind, but Brooke catches her hand.
“Please don’t walk away,” Brooke pleads, voice soft, and something in Valeria cracks. She may not be in love with Brooke anymore, but she did love her deeply once, and the sound of her in pain still makes Valeria ache.
“I’m sorry, Brooke,” she says, not turning to face her. She doesn’t trust guilt not to take over the second her eyes land on Brooke. She knows there’s a strong chance that the second she does, she’ll wrap her arms around Brooke, trying to soothe her pain despite desperately needing space.
A tear slides down Valeria’s cheek as Brooke gently releases her hand, and even through the sadness of the moment, she feels relief. She takes a shaky breath, the air filling her lungs in a way it hasn’t in months, as she walks out the door.
Valeria immediately calls Camila, who responds before the first ring.
“Hey, baby,” she answers, and her voice immediately calms Valeria. She’ll never get tired of that. Of how just the thought of her, or her voice, makes everything better.
“Hi,” Valeria replies, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I’m all done.”
“That was fast. You okay?” Camila asks, her voice so tender that Valeria can picture the softness in her face.
“Yeah. It was sad, but I feel much better.”
“Do you want to talk about it? What do you need, sweet girl?”
Valeria smiles. “Just you. I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay, drive safe, please. I love you.”
“I love you,” Valeria replies, a small smile kissing her lips before hanging up.
“Wow. I guess this is done . . . for real, isn’t it?
” Brooke’s voice says from somewhere behind Valeria.
She freezes for a second before turning.
Ready to come face-to-face with Brooke’s anger one last time, but it’s not there.
All that flashes over her features is a deep sadness.
“I’ve lost you,” she says, chin trembling.
Valeria’s throat constricts, and the only thing she can do is nod.
Brooke’s shoulders drop. “Even with how poorly I treated you sometimes, I hope you know I’ve loved you intensely.”
“I know,” Valeria says softly.
Despite all of Brooke’s toxicity, Valeria still believes there was real love buried somewhere beneath all of Brooke’s trauma—even on the days when she couldn’t feel it at all.
Valeria held on to that belief like a fragile thread for years.
It was what made it so hard for her to let go, because she knew Brooke loved her deeply.
She was so worried no one would ever love her as much as Brooke did that she never stopped to think that the way Brooke loved her was all wrong.
Now, with Camila, Valeria sees it clearly.
There’s no guessing. No overthinking the tone of a text, no searching between the lines for reassurance, no convincing herself that absence means something other than absence.
The love she feels now is steady and visible, woven into the everyday moments: the consistency, the gentleness, the way she is chosen without having to beg for it.
With Camila, Valeria doesn’t have to believe out of desperation. She doesn’t have to hope love exists somewhere beneath the surface.
She just knows.
And with that sureness in every ounce of her being, Valeria walks to her car with steady steps, shoulders relaxed, head held high, not once glancing back at Brooke, and drives off in the direction of the woman she loves, the safety of her.
When Valeria makes it home, Camila is on the porch with Miso, a gentle smile on her face as Valeria steps out of the car.
Camila’s arms swallow Valeria in a firm hug.
Valeria holds on to her tightly as a wave of emotions crashes over her—sadness over her life with Brooke, the residual anger for all the pain she caused, relief to have it be over, excitement for her future with Camila, but mostly, through the ocean of feelings, there’s love.
So much love for the woman holding her, for the woman who has given her only safety and acceptance.
There’s a certainty about them that makes Valeria feel overwhelmed in the best way. It’s as vibrant and boundless as the love that binds them.