Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Brooke spent the rest of the evening learning to unwind, Sweetbriar Cove-style.
There was food, and cocktails, a local band playing, and people dancing right on the sand.
Summer had even set up a s’mores station, where you could build the perfect skewers with candy and chocolate before toasting them in the open bonfire.
“I’m a s’mores purist,” Summer explained, snuggled up to her boyfriend, Grayson, as they all watched their marshmallows melt in the flickering firelight. “Plain chocolate and graham crackers all the way.”
“You’ve got to mix it up,” Mackenzie argued, wrapped now in a big blue blanket. “Live life on the edge.”
Brooke smiled. She was tucked in the crook of Riley’s arm, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long while. “Is it ready?” she asked him.
“Let’s see.” Riley pulled their branches out, and expertly slid the gooey toasted marshmallows onto their waiting crackers.
“I haven’t had one since I was a kid,” Brooke said, nibbling the edge. The taste of chocolate and sugar took her back. “We used to go to my grandpa’s cabin, eat nothing but s’mores and hot dogs all summer long.”
“Sounds like fun.” Riley smiled at her, his eyes bright in the firelight.
She nodded. “It was. I always thought . . .”
Brooke caught herself in time. She’d always thought she’d like to do that with her kids one day, let them run wild in the woods and by the lakeshore the way she had.
But of course, that wasn’t the kind of thing she should be saying to Riley.
Any talk of kids and the future, and he’d probably bolt before their s’mores got cold.
“You were saying?” he nudged her gently.
Brooke shook her head. “Nothing. You know, it’s getting kind of cold. I’m going to grab my sweater from the car.”
“I can go,” he offered.
“No, you stay here. Toast me another.” Brooke kissed him on the cheek and headed back to the house.
People greeted her as she passed, now-familiar faces she’d seen at other events, and as she made her way out to her car, Brooke felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.
She was finally settling in: making friends and putting down roots.
She may have wound up in Sweetbriar Cove by accident, but perhaps it was exactly where she was supposed to be.
She unlocked the car and grabbed her sweater, but couldn’t stop herself from reaching for her phone, too.
She’d stashed it in the glove compartment to put Archer out of her mind for the night, but after what had happened at the hotel last time she went no-contact, she couldn’t resist checking it, just in case.
No SOS text messages from the hotel. She exhaled in relief, then saw the little icon flashing. A voicemail was waiting.
Brooke clicked through, and then she heard it. Archer’s voice, clear as the day before she’d left him.
“It’s me.”
She froze. In an instant, he was right there with her. Flashing that apologetic smile, his dark eyes full of charming remorse.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” the voicemail continued.
“I know I screwed up, I should have told you about her sooner, but baby, you have to understand, I was always going to choose you. You’re the one I want, our life together, and I know you want it too.
Please, just give me a chance to explain.
Don’t throw away the rest of our life together because I made one stupid mistake.
I love you, baby. I’ll do anything to make this right. ”
The message ended. Brooke slowly lowered the phone. She felt sick to her stomach, as if she’d just stepped off a roller coaster, and solid ground didn’t feel so solid anymore.
What the hell was he playing at?
But she knew that answer already. He thought he could turn back the clock, charm her into loving him again and conveniently forgetting just what a liar he’d been. Archer was used to getting his way, and now, he was turning all that charm and smooth focus on her.
She gulped for air.
Running away from him had been a mistake, she could see it now.
If she’d told him to his face it was over, then maybe he wouldn’t be chasing after her like this.
They would have fought, and screamed, and yelled; she would have told him he was a liar, and a cheater, and she never wanted to lay eyes on him again.
It would be done.
But instead, she’d let shame and guilt drive her out of town, trying to forget her own foolishness by pretending it had never happened at all. As if paying penance by planning a dozen perfect weddings could ever erase the marriage she’d helped tear apart.
This is what denial got you: skulking in the shadows outside a party, feeling like one rogue voicemail was blowing all that hard-won resolve apart.
She wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t have space in her heart to deal with him, not with the biggest event of her life in just two days, and Riley waiting down on the beach, and a million other things to juggle—that didn’t include raking up the biggest betrayal of her life.
Brooke could hear the music and laughter from the party, but she couldn’t imagine going back in there and faking a smile. Not now.
She got behind the wheel, and typed out a quick text for Riley.
‘Sorry, not feeling great – heading home.’
She already felt guilty hitting send, but she didn’t know what else to do. Tell Riley that even a message from her ex sent her spinning? She was supposed to be over him now. Immune. And she would be, one day.
But this wasn’t that day.
She drove home, feeling terrible for leaving the party behind.
She could hear her phone chirping with new messages, but she didn’t pick it up; she didn’t want to have to answer Riley’s concerned questions, not when she was bailing on him like this.
Back home, she changed into sweatpants and put some tea on the stove, then stood there in the middle of her empty apartment, feeling lost.
This wasn’t just about Archer anymore. It was everything. Wondering if she was making the same mistake all over again, opening up to a man who should be off-limits. Setting herself up for heartbreak when love should be the last thing on her mind.
When you don’t see the truth that’s right in front of you, how can you ever trust yourself—or anyone else—again?
Brooke didn’t even hear the tea kettle whistle until there was a knock at the door, breaking her reverie.
“Just a second!” she called, hurrying to take it off the flame before opening up.
Riley was standing outside. He looked too good in the darkness, in those jeans and a T-shirt, soft enough to touch, and Brooke’s heart twisted to see him there.
“Oh. Hey.” She gulped. “Sorry I left in a hurry like that. I, umm, had a headache coming on.”
Riley didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure everything’s OK? What’s going on?”
He looked so tender and concerned, Brooke hated telling these half-truths. But what could she say?
She’d been wrong before. So wrong. And now, that mistake was lingering in the back of everything she did, making her question her instincts, and carefully second-guess each new choice.
She shook her head. “Like I said, I’m not feeling so great. Stress, and work . . .” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”
“Poor baby.” Riley pulled her closer and gently cradled her in his arms. “It’s OK if you’re not up to a crowd. I’d rather be here with you, any day.”
Brooke relaxed in his arms. She shouldn’t let herself get used to it, but he felt too good to resist. Solid, and stable, holding her against him. Riley stroked her cheek. “How about I take care of you?” he said, with a smile that took her breath away. “I’m guessing you don’t let anyone else do it.”
“What gave me away?” Brooke managed a faint smile, and he chuckled.
“Lucky for you, I came equipped.” Riley picked up a bag from beside the doorway, and held it up. “I stopped for supplies. Aspirin, vitamin C, and Summer’s famous peach cake.”
“You covered all the bases,” she said, feeling a wave of affection.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Brooke stood aside and let him in. He set the bag down and looked around. “Now, you get to bed,” Riley told her, “and let me take care of the rest.”
Brooke did as she was told. After running around all week, it was a relief to go sink into her fresh sheets and listen to him pottering around outside.
Soon, Riley appeared in her bedroom doorway with a tray.
He set it down on the nightstand, and she scooched over, making room for him beside her on the bed.
“There,” he said, setting a plate of cake between them on the covers. “All the best parts of the party, without the chaos.”
Brooke relaxed back against her pillows. “You’re sweet.”
“Shh.” Riley winked. “Let’s keep that between us. You’ll ruin my reputation.”
She laughed. “Don’t tell me the smooth-guy routine is just a front, and you’re really itching to settle down with two kids and a dog?”
“Right.” Riley laughed along, but there was a look on his face she couldn’t decipher, and it reminded her of when she and Max had been teasing him the other night.
“Hey, you know I’m only kidding.” Brooke nudged him gently. “I think it’s great you’re so honest about who you are and what you want. I’m guessing you save everyone a lot of heartache this way.”
Riley nodded slowly. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he closed his mouth instead.
“I wish everyone could be so upfront,” she added, feeling a pang. “Just say, ‘this is a fling,’ instead of pretending it ever meant more.”
“Like your ex?” Riley asked slowly.
She sighed. “He wants to talk,” Brooke admitted. “He’s texting, and calling. I wish I could just make him disappear, but it’s not so simple.”
Riley seemed to tense. “Do you still love him?”
“No,” Brooke answered honestly. “But it still hurts to think about. That’s how it works, right?” she said ruefully. “Breakups take time. You can wish someone was covered in honey, stranded in a pit of killer ants, but that doesn’t mean you don’t still feel the pain at everything you went through.”
“That’s a pretty specific revenge fantasy,” Riley said, with a glimmer of a smile.