Chapter 29
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Audrey
“Oh, this didn’t turn out so bad,” I say, turning side to side in the floor-length mirror. “It’s kind of cute.”
In my haste to leave Tennessee, I forgot the dress I’d planned to wear to Dad’s party.
The silver lining about coming a day early was that I had time to shop, an activity that never hurts my spirits.
A little boutique near my favorite part of the city had one powder pink dress with a low-cut back that dips almost to the top of my behind, and it fit like a glove.
My first thought was that Brooks would love it.
My second thought was to find a ladies’ room, so I didn’t get emotional in public.
But I didn’t. I lifted my chin and continued with my day without shedding a tear.
Because last night I realized something—I’m not sad about what I lost. I’m sad for what it could have been.
We had the potential to be something very special.
There’s something bittersweet about that because I truly believe there was magic between us, and I can’t accept that he didn’t feel it, too.
Thinking he didn’t feel something real, even a spark of it, would require abandoning all logic and experience.
I know what I felt. I know what I saw. All I can do is chalk it up to bad timing and try to believe that what’s meant for me will find me at the right moment.
“No more waterworks,” I say, slipping on my heels. The dress’s fabric is silky and smooth, and it’s easy to move around in. I figure something ought to be easy tonight.
I glance at the clock by the bed. Mom insisted on sending a car for me tonight, and I agreed only if no one else was picked up at the same time. The last thing I need is to open the door and find Lewis Lemon sitting in the back seat with his smarmy smile and obnoxious cologne.
Somehow, I wouldn’t put it past her.
I sat on the balcony of my hotel room last night and thought about a lot of things.
I thought about Mom and Anna a lot. I can’t imagine what it was like for my mother to lose a child, and I’ve always known it would’ve been unbearable for her.
She held my sister, I’m sure. There’s no doubt she loved her.
If there’s one person in the world who actually knew Anna, it was Mom.
And maybe that’s part of the story I never gave enough weight to.
I’ve been too focused on my loss—the truth, the opportunity to celebrate Anna, to know where she rests.
I’ve been too focused on how I believed it made Mom more judgmental, overbearing, and expectant.
But maybe I misconstrued all of that. Maybe she wasn’t trying to keep me small. Maybe she was just trying to keep … me.
Losing my sister had to have broken a piece of her heart, and maybe every milestone I reached reminded her that Anna never would. Maybe every report card, ballet recital, and family vacation triggered her to remember, in a beautiful, vicious cycle, that she’s just fighting to survive.
Isn’t that what everyone is doing? Just trying to survive?
I thought Jessica Van was the queen of control, but maybe she needed that control to feel safe in her own life. Her own skin. Her own heart. Maybe she thought that if she loosened her grip, even for a moment, that she might lose me all the way.
Mom didn’t love me less. She probably loves me too much.
That doesn’t solve all my frustrations with her, because I’m only a human, but it does put things in a new frame—and I can work with that.
I blow out a breath and turn to grab my purse when my attention lands on the sheets bundled in a heap in the middle of the bed.
It’s not the nicest bed I’ve ever slept in, nor the most comfortable, and I have bags under my eyes today.
But when I moved from the balcony to the bed and turned off the lights, I climbed under the sheets in the dark and eventually fell asleep.
I was either too tired to worry about the monsters, or I realized that monsters exist even in the light. I might as well get some rest.
A knock raps against the door a whole fifteen minutes early. Early and door-to-car service? Gosh. What is Mom paying these people?
“Just a moment, please,” I say, giving myself a final once-over. Aside from slightly swollen eyes, I look fine. I’d look better with a smile, but we can’t have it all. And if someone tells me to smile tonight, I’m going to show them what I learned in my single self-defense class.
“I wish you could see yourself as I see you. You’d walk into every room with your head held high and not give a damn about what anyone thought about you—because you’d know you were everything.”
Brooks’s words bring the slightest grin to my lips as I toss my gloss and phone into my purse. “Okay. Here we go. I’ve got this.” Then I head for the door.
“I apologize for keeping you … waiting.” My hand flies to my mouth as I look into this man’s eyes—beautiful, brilliant chips of jade staring back at me. He’s here?
Brooks stands in the hallway, wearing black pants and a crisp white shirt. His jaw is covered with stubble, and his hair is wild yet so perfectly him. My fingers burn to roam through his hair, and my palms itch to scrape over his jaw.
But I don’t touch him. I don’t even know why he’s here.
“Hey,” he says, his voice rough like he, too, hasn’t slept well.
“What are you doing here?”
He shrugs as if no words will make it clear, like it’s a feeling more than a sentence. Still, he tries. “I’m sorry.”
Two words that I didn’t need to hear but pummel me all the same. I try to catch my breath, to process the moment, but it’s too big and beautiful to handle.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says softly. “Wow, Doc.”
Tears threaten to ruin my makeup. Doc. I never realized how much I loved his silly nickname for me until now.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Las Vegas today?” I ask, sniffling. Don’t cry, Audrey.
He nods. “I was. It’s kind of a long story.”
“Why are you here?”
He gives me a lopsided grin. “Short answer? Because you are.”
I bite my lip to keep from crying. It’s getting harder by the minute.
“Long answer?” He shrugs. “Because you were right.”
“What about?”
“A lot, really. But you were completely correct when you told me that I needed to let the past go.”
Oh. I step out of the doorway and offer him to come inside. The relief on his handsome face is evident, his nerves palpable. It would be endearing if I knew for sure what prompted this visit.
“I have Dad’s party tonight, and a car will be arriving to pick me up at any second,” I say. “So, can you please cut to the chase?”
He takes a deep breath in preparation for his explanation. I’m scared to hope it’s going to be something that thrills me, and terrified that it’ll be something that hurts me. He has the power to do both. And yet I don’t believe he’s cruel enough to do the latter.
“I had something happen not long ago, something I’ll tell you about later, just not tonight,” he says. “And it was easily the worst predicament I’ve ever found myself in, and that’s saying a lot.”
I fight a smile, but it’s futile.
“There has been a lot of introspection done in the last couple of days,” he says. “I also took a call from your friend Gianna, who threatened me within an inch of my life.”
“She did?”
“She sure as fuck did.” He chuckles, shifting his feet. “Listen, I want you to know that I listened to you. I heard what you said. And I’ve thought about everything you shared with me, the advice you gave me, and I’ve taken a good, hard look at my life.”
I nod, not sure what to say. And grabbing hold and shaking the answer out of him doesn’t seem very effective, but I’m dying to know what he means. I’m desperate to know what would be so important to show up here on a night he should be across the country and apologize.
“Before you came into my life, I was still living in the past,” he says.
“I think it was probably a self-imposed punishment of some sort, but I’d deemed it as fine.
I didn’t know any better. I never let anyone close enough to me to show me any differently.
I didn’t feel I deserved any better.” He inhales as a soft smile just for me settles on his face.
“And then here you come with your pink ribbon and sewing kit, ready to make a mess of me.”
“What are you saying?” My heart is thundering. This is excruciating. “I’m happy that you’re going to stop punishing yourself, but why come all the way here and tell me this?”
He reaches for my hand, and I don’t decide. My palm just extends to his. The contact is almost too much, too personal—too much of a reminder of the few days where things were perfect.
“I retired from the NAFL today,” he says.
“What?” I gasp, my eyes widening. “Why did you do that?”
“I had to let it go.” He rubs the top of my hand with his thumb.
“The fighting, the backstabbing, and the politics of it all aren’t for me.
I lived in that world for far too long. It was the closest world I could find that was like the one my dad lived in, I guess.
And I hustled, and I sacrificed myself for it …
and I almost sacrificed you, too.” He comes closer, twisting our fingers together and bringing them to his lips.
“You, Dr. Van, showed me what life could look like if I just … let go.”
My head spins, and I take his other hand to steady me.
“Will you accept my apology for walking out on you a couple of days ago?” he asks.
“I’m sick over it. I keep seeing your eyes filled with such sadness and pain.
Then, it just reinforced what I already thought.
Now? I think it was the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done in my life, and that’s saying something. ”
His words are music to my ears. I don’t know what they mean in the long run, and I’m afraid to read into them, but they’re beautiful all the same.
“Of course, I accept your apology,” I say, my chest burning with the heat of a thousand suns. “But you could’ve called. You didn’t have to come all the way here.”
“Yeah, I did. I had to look you in the eye like a man and take responsibility for my mistake. To apologize to your face for hurting you, something I never wanted to do. And I had to see for myself that you’re okay.”
I let go of his hands and take a breath. “I am okay. I couldn’t make your behavior make sense. That was the worst of it. I thought we had something with legs, something that I’ve never felt with anyone else, and I really, truly thought you felt that, too.”
“I do. I really fucking do. And one day I will explain all of this—not as an excuse, but for context. But I promise you that as long as we’re together, in whatever way you want to be, I won’t allow anything to come between us.”
A swell of warmth floods my body, causing my cheeks to match my dress. This is the Brooks I fell for. This is the man I thought I knew.
“Look,” he says, smirking. “I’m unemployed now. I’m renting a house from the mayor of this little town in Tennessee.”
I laugh.
“I have a cat who screams for hot dogs, apparently.” He melts me with his smile as he comes to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I don’t know what the future looks like, but I know I’m in a rebuilding stage. And I’d really, really like to see if we can build something together.”
Our mouths find each other gently, at first. He kisses me softly, carefully, like he’s testing the waters to see if this moment is real.
I smile against him, unable to stop the giggle of relief. His forehead rests against mine as he releases a shaky breath mixed with a chuckle. His hand slides to the back of my neck, tilting my face so he can see in my eyes.
“Let’s label this,” he says. “Me and you. Let’s put a name on it.”
“What do you want to call us?”
His smile is simple and perfect, and it fills me with a peace I can’t explain.
“I don’t know what the future looks like, but I know I’m in a rebuilding stage. And I’d really, really like to see if we can build something together.”
But I do know that if this moment is the foundation of whatever we’re building, we’re going to be just fine.
“You can put whatever label you want on it, but I want you to be certain of what we are.” He traces my neck with his fingertip. “Because we are.” His eyes twinkle with mischief. “Will you be my girlfriend, Doc?”
“I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
His face buries in the crook of my neck as his hands slide under my dress. I moan as his palms hit my skin, pushing a button that allows him full entry into my heart. I melt into him, knowing right where this is going.
And I’ve never wanted anything more.
Whimsy List: Updated
Have a one-night stand.
ORGASM! (with a man)
Wear a bold lipstick.
Buy more lingerie (and wear it often).
Stop being sweet.
Learn to flirt.
Take a self-defense class.
Get a tattoo.
Sleep in the dark without being scared.
Cut my hair. (bad idea)
Learn to be okay if others are disappointed (even if it’s in me).
Eat alone in public.
Do something spontaneous.
Make Anna proud.
Learn how to give a blow job.