Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Brock
I watch Willow disappear with the elevator and turn my attention to Lake. I narrow my eyes at him and he steps back, holding his hands up.
“I simply told the truth, you can’t be pissed at me for that,” he rushes out.
I scoff and take a step closer. “The truth is you’re a selfish, narcissistic asshole who finds pleasure in hurting Willow time and time again.
She might hate me, but it’s not because of the way I treated her, because I worshipped her and she knows it.
I got a glimpse of what you tossed aside and had her screaming my name over and over.
” I take another step closer and crack my knuckles.
“You don’t want her, but you want her to want you.
It’s fucking sick and to bring it to the attention of everyone during Paxton’s wedding just proves how fucked up you really are.
You ruined his wedding and you hurt Willow again.
I’m gonna give you to the count of three to get the fuck out of here or you’ll be begging to only feel the sting from Willow’s punch. ”
His eyes widen and he runs to the exit before I even start counting.
Fucking pussy.
I turn and my eyes land on the elevator. She said she hates me and doesn’t have feelings for me. It’s more painful than it should be. I let my heart get involved while she clearly kept her’s protected.
She’s a good liar, I’ll give her that because I would’ve bet all my money on red that she was all in like me.
“Brock?”
I lift my head toward my mother’s voice and push down all the pain I’m feeling. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was trying to help her. I had no intention of ruining Paxton’s wedding, or of Willow getting hurt again. I don’t need you telling me how wrong it was. Not now.”
She wraps her arms around me and I welcome the comfort. My heart is shattering in my chest and I can’t even admit it.
“Everything happens for a reason, my sweet boy. I see the hurt in your eyes. It wasn’t all fake.”
I pull away and shrug, shoving my hands into my pants pockets. “Yeah it was. I could really use a drink.”
She nods, resting her hand on my cheek. “You’re an Atwood and we fight for what we want.”
“Some fights are pointless, Mom,” I say, walking back into the reception area.
The music is playing. The dance floor is crowded.
There’s talking, laughing, and the clattering of dishes.
It’s as if nothing happened, yet I’m not the same guy I was just a half hour ago.
I feel defeated. I can’t remember a time that I’ve been this hurt.
Yet, as I stand here, the world around me moves on as if nothing happened.
My pain is irrelevant to everyone, including Willow.
I move to the bar and order a shot, tossing it back quickly before asking for another.
“Gonna drown out the pain?”
I turn toward Paxton and lean my back against the bar. “I’m sorry that shit happened. I didn’t intend to disrupt your special day.”
“Does it look like you disrupted anything? Lake showed his true colors, I should’ve listened to you when you said what an asshole he was.”
I toss back another shot and shrug. “He just told the truth.”
“Did he?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yep.”
“So everything between you and Willow was an act? Come on, brother, you aren’t that good of an actor.”
I force a grin, grabbing another shot. “Seems like I am,” I say, tossing back the shot.
“You do realize that we grew up together right? I saw you in a school play once and you sucked. I’ve watched you trying to lie to Mom and Dad and it was painful to witness.
I sat on the couch and watched you attempting to break up with someone.
You can’t lie or act. So, cut the bullshit and be honest with me.
Holding it in is only going to make it worse,” he says.
I shake my head before scrubbing my face. My eyes lift to his and I can feel the pain like a knife in my heart.
“It started out as this fake relationship. I figured if we pretended to be together it would rub salt in Lake’s wounds and get Mom off my back.
It was supposed to just be for the wedding.
But I started enjoying being with her. I started looking at her differently and we both felt the pull toward each other.
We decided to go with ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.’ So, yeah we slept together.
A lot.” I run my hand through my hair and squeeze the back of my neck. “Anyway, I caught feelings for her.”
Paxton smiles, handing me a beer. “So, what’s the problem? You can see no one cares what Lake had to say.”
“The problem is she said she doesn’t have feelings for me. She said she can’t stand me. So obviously whatever the fuck it is that I’m feeling is completely one-sided.”
I take a pull of my beer and beg it to help the pain that has consumed me.
“She said that to you?”
“She yelled it at Lake. I was just lucky enough to be there to hear it.”
“You need to talk to her,” he says, sipping his beer.
“And say what? She doesn’t feel the same. I can’t force her. I can’t make her feel something she doesn’t.”
We stand in silence for a few minutes. Paxton lifts his beer toward Hartford and she smiles, blowing him a kiss. Talk about rubbing salt in someone’s wounds.
“Miscommunication will fuck up everything. Look at Anya and Griffin. If he would’ve told her that Callum made him promise to stay away from her, they could’ve fixed that shit sooner and avoided hiding their relationship.
Or look at Shepherd and Felicity. If they were both honest with each other about how they felt, it wouldn’t have taken so long for them to find their happiness.
” He turns his attention to Hartford and smiles.
“Look at me and Hartford. If I wasn’t so scared of ruining our friendship, this wedding would’ve taken place a long time ago.
” He looks back at me and squeezes my shoulder.
“She might feel the same and is scared to admit it, but you’ll never know unless you talk to her.
Tell her how you feel. Fight for her. Girls love that shit. ”
He’s right. They all had a long road to get where they are, but that’s their journey. We aren’t all the same. Each relationship has its own unique path and challenges.
“And if she doesn’t feel the same?” I ask, my voice tinged with the fear that’s been gnawing at me. The thought of unrequited love terrifies me, and I’m desperate to know the truth, even if it hurts.
“She feels the same,” Anya says, stepping up closer and wrapping her arms around me in a comforting embrace.
“What?” Paxton and I say in unison, both of us caught off guard by her certainty.
“You’re worried she doesn’t feel the same, but she does,” Anya reassures me, her voice steady and confident.
My head is spinning, and I’m not sure if it’s because of what Anya just said or all the shots of alcohol I’ve had. Can it be true? Is there really hope for us?
“She told you that?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Not exactly,” Anya admits, her eyes meeting mine with a serious expression. “But she thinks you’ve been acting this entire time. She thinks you still view her as your enemy. She’s hurting and confused. You need to talk to her, Brock. Tell her how you feel.”
The weight of her words settles over me, and I feel a mixture of relief and anxiety. Willow thinks I’ve been pretending that I still see her as my adversary. The realization that she’s been hurting and confused because of me is like a punch to the gut.
I look at Anya, her eyes filled with sincerity. “You really think she feels the same?”
“I know she does,” Anya says softly. “But she needs to hear it from you. She needs to know that what you feel is real.”
The room around me seems to fade away, and all I can focus on is the enormity of what Anya is saying. This is my chance to make things right, to be honest about my feelings and show Willow that what we have is genuine.
“So man up and go talk to her,” Paxton says, slapping his hand down on my shoulder.
“She changed her flight for tonight, so you’ll need to hurry up,” Anya says.
“What? She’s leaving?”
“Yes, so go,” she says, shoving me away from the bar.
I run out of there determined to find out the truth. My heart races in my chest, which is crazy but maybe it means it’s piecing itself back together. Maybe, just maybe, Willow really does feel the same and she is just scared to admit it.
I slam on the elevator button. “Come on,” I whisper, watching it slowly come down from the top floor.
The door finally opens and I rush inside, hitting the button to take me to our room.
Our room. The room where we discovered each other in ways no one else ever has.
The room where we laughed together, held each other, and fell in love.
When the door opens I race toward our room and pull out my keycard, putting it in with my pulse racing. I open the door with a smile threatening to take over my face, when suddenly I stop in my tracks.
She’s gone.
It’s empty.
Just like my heart.