Chapter 37
Brooke
I close the carriage house door behind me, lean back, close my eyes, and let out a long breath. I need a moment to myself before finishing up the night.
I couldn’t have planned for the events of this weekend.
Especially Caleb punching a guest in the face.
I shouldn’t have found it as wildly hot as I did, but I’m also furious with him right now.
I handled damage control as best as I could.
Preston thought the entire thing was hilarious.
Hannah was concerned about the Times piece and word getting out on socials—Mr. Quincy’s influence was enough for Kevin to delete his photos, but the internet is another story.
I push off the door and walk further into the house.
“Mom!” I jump at the sight of her and Paige in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”
Mom clears her throat.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Judy.”
Paige straightens a stack of papers on the kitchen island. Mom clicks the top of a pen.
“I’ll leave you two to talk. Thank you, Judy,” Paige says, giving Mom a sidelong glance. She places the papers in her bag and moves toward the door. She turns the doorknob and looks back. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Brooke.”
I’m sorry. What?
The door shuts behind her.
“I’m very disappointed, Brooke,” Mom says.
“Mom…can I call you that now?” I say, my stomach flipping. “What’s going on?”
She purses her lips. Whatever is going on, I’m not going to like it.
“I raised you better than this. I worked so hard to give you the things I didn’t have.
Made sacrifices you wouldn’t begin to understand.
Handed you a career on a silver platter.
Hand-selected a man from a good family who could give us, you, everything you deserve.
So you didn’t love him, but that was no reason to give up a comfortable life.
Not only for you. For me. How selfish of you to throw all of that away. ”
Give us. For me.
We’ve had this fight before—and so many others like it. But she’s never spoken to me like this, with such blatant disdain. She’s never admitted to being this self-serving. Unlike the fights before, I’m not backing down. I’m not apologizing. Whatever she’s upset about is not my fault.
“How selfish of me? Kent and I weren’t right for each other. I wasn’t happy, Mom.” My heart pounds. “Your version of a comfortable life and mine aren’t the same. I don’t need a big house and fancy things. I need someone who loves me, cares about me, believes in me. Someone who makes me happy.”
“Someone who believes in you…makes you happy.” She laughs. “Brooke, listen to yourself. It’s ridiculous. Does Caleb believe in you? Does he make you happy?”
“Yes, he…”
That’s what this is about.
“You weren’t as discreet as you thought you were, dear.
At first, I thought you were simply silly enough to have a little fling.
Fine. I didn’t think you’d actually be foolish enough to fall in love with him.
That’s what this is, isn’t it? If the stolen glances all weekend weren’t enough.
” She waves a hand toward the bedroom. “It’s clear you’re both staying here. Brooke, you should know, his family—”
“Don’t you say one thing about his family,” I say, fire coating each word. “They’re wonderful people.”
“Whatever they told you—”
“Enough!” I yell. “They told me everything, Mom. And I didn’t have a moment of doubt when they did.
For so long, I told myself you weren’t what you so obviously are.
That you were a strong single mother. That you had to be tough because you were forging a life for us on your own.
That you had to be tough on me to prepare me for taking over the agency. ”
“Which you won’t be anymore,” she says, casually shaking her head.
“What? I know you might not be ready to retire but—”
“Paige Summers has bought Spencer Soirees,” she says.
My vision blurs and I feel dizzy.
“We’ve signed the paperwork. I am ready to retire Brooke, but when I realized how foolish you’ve been with your life, I had to take matters into my own hands.
If you weren’t going to secure my future, I’d have to do it myself.
I’ve taught you well, but you’ll never be as good as I was leading a wedding agency.
You don’t have what it takes. Despite my best efforts, you have too much heart. ”
I need to sit down, but my legs won’t budge.
“Too much heart,” I laugh. “Is there such a thing?”
“You’ve always been this way.” She says it like it’s an ugly trait.
Every time I cried at a wedding, she’d chastise me.
Each time I supported my colleagues rather than critiqued them, she told me I wasn’t tough enough.
I’ve never been enough for her. I’ve been the burden she had to bear.
She’s never believed in me. There’s a stinging behind my eyes, but I won’t let her see me cry.
She doesn’t deserve to see a single one of my tears ever again.
“You were always going to sell the business,” I say, grabbing a kitchen stool for support. “Even if Kent and I had worked out.” It’s not a question.
She avoids my eyes.
“You would’ve convinced me to stop working and push out a bunch of babies. Or kept me on but convinced me to let someone else take the lead. Wouldn’t you?”
This is vicious, even for her. “Spencer Soirees was never going to be mine.” My voice shakes. “This was always your plan.”
She collects her purse from the island.
“You’ll enjoy working for Paige. And if you’re thinking about resigning,” she threatens, “take a look at your employment contract.”
When the door closes behind her, I sink to the floor.
It’s two o’clock in the morning when I finally hear the door of the carriage house open.
After Mom left, I texted Maddie to ask her to handle the event breakdown with the promise of a later start for the farewell brunch tomorrow.
I told Caleb I was taking the early setup tomorrow and needed to get to bed.
It wasn’t a complete lie. I’m in bed, but I haven’t slept at all.
I’ve gone over the conversation with Mom a dozen times.
I’ve combed through six years of memories, searching for the signs I missed.
My head and eyes ache from crying for hours. Finally, there aren’t any tears left.
Caleb tiptoes into the room.
“You’re up,” he says softly, finding me sitting on the bed, arms wrapped around my legs.
I lied. There are so many more tears. They pour out so quickly, I’m breathless.
“Brooke.” Caleb’s brows knit with concern. He rushes to the bed and throws his arms around me. “What’s wrong?”
The tears fall so fast I can’t speak, my nose is running, I’m an absolute mess. Full ugly crying in front of him. Again.
“Brooke,” he says gently. “In and out, okay?”
After a few deep breaths, I try to speak. “Earlier…”
“I’m so sorry, Brooke,” he says, wiping tears from my cheeks. “Actually, no. I’m not sorry I punched that asshole. He fucking deserved it. I’m sorry he touched you like that. That I wasn’t there sooner.”
“It’s…not…that,” I sob. “My mom…”
Caleb grabs the tissue box from the nightstand and hands me one.
I attempt to gracefully blow my nose, but I sound like the foghorn on the Port Jefferson ferry.
While I signal to nearby watercraft, Caleb sits across from me and rests his hands on my knees.
I’ve changed out of my work dress, wearing cotton pajama shorts and one of Caleb’s undershirts that I’ve taken to stealing.
“Look at me.” He takes more deep breaths in and out. I mimic his breaths while wiping tears from my face and snot from my nose. We’ve come a long way from being stuck in the storage closet. “Talk to me,” he says.
“My mom, she knows about us.”
“Shit, Brooke. That’s my fault. God, I really fucked up tonight. She confronted me and I didn’t deny it. I know you wanted to wait, but the way she spoke to me…I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”
“She what? Actually, no, that’s not surprising at all. I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”
“I took my anger toward her out on Gage,” he says, rubbing his right hand. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s the least of it.” I take a steadying breath and tell him what happened with Mom tonight. There are more tears, but now I’m not alone.