Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
“. . . N
ow, visualize a place you feel safe. Happy. Hold that feeling with you, and come back to the room.”
Brooke blinked awake to find herself sitting in the middle of the yoga studio, surrounded by the rest of the motley assortment of lunchtime meditators.
“Great session, everyone!” their teacher—ahem, spiritual guide – clapped her hands. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Brooke folded her mat and slipped her shoes back on, retrieving her phone from the basket out front. Eliza called just as she was getting in the car, and Brooke switched her to speaker, turning onto the highway back to the hotel.
“How’s life on the higher plane?”
Brooke laughed. “Pretty peaceful, and this plane seems quiet, too. So far.”
“I can’t believe you’ve stuck it out in that class.” Eliza sounded admiring. “I took one look at those healing crystals and knew I couldn’t keep a straight face.”
“Aww, it’s not so bad. The teachers are kind of kooky, but it’s a great group. And it’s important to take some time out from the hotel, just for me.”
“Brooke Delancey, poster child for work-life balance, who would have thought?”
Brooke grinned. “Not me.”
She’d had her doubts about the meditation sessions when she’d started, but after a few weeks of lunchtime classes, she could already feel the difference.
A moment to zone out and collect her thoughts let her juggle everything at work with a clear head—and she was finally sleeping through the night, too.
“How’s Boston?” she asked. Eliza was back in the city working at the newspaper, but from the sound of her sigh, it wasn’t going well.
“The subway broke down this morning. I spent forty-five minutes pressed up against some guy’s sweaty armpit.”
“Was he at least cute?” Brooke asked hopefully.
“Would I be complaining to you if he was?” Eliza countered. “Anyway, I have this killer deadline looming, I think I’m going to drive down to the Cape tomorrow and hole up at my parent’s house. Ooh, we should go out!”
“Sounds great, but what about your deadline?” Brooke smiled.
“I need inspiration,” Eliza declared. “I think a bottle of wine and some clam chowder ought to do it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Brooke said, turning up the hotel driveway. “Give me a call when you get here.”
She rang off, and turned up the collar on her coat to make the dash inside.
The balmy summer weather had suddenly made the change to brisk fall winds after Labor Day, but even without their summer tourist trade, the hotel was booked solid all the way through the New Year.
Brooke had decided to embrace the change: the hotel was already decorated in the warm autumn hues, with pumpkin centerpieces, and a roaring fire in every fireplace, inviting guests to linger with blankets and a book.
Today, she found her boss, Ash Callahan, waiting on one of the couches, scrolling through his phone.
“Ash?” she exclaimed, hurrying over. “I’m sorry, I thought we were meeting at three. I was just at an appointment,” she added, fumbling to explain. “It was my lunch break, and?—”
“Please.” Ash waved away her apology. “I know the importance of taking some time out. Although, with a newborn, it usually means a nap.”
“How’s Noelle doing?” Brooke asked, taking a seat.
“Tired. But we’re loving it. And I’m loving the fact you have everything under control here.” He looked around, smiling. “I feel like I should be doing something, but you’re running this place all on your own.”
“I have a great team,” Brooke corrected him, not wanting to take all the praise.
“And to be honest, I don’t need to do anything to get the bookings these days.
The phone is still ringing off the hook with calls from all over the world, and we have a waiting list a mile long.
I even got an email from a woman in China today, offering to hold her wedding on any free day we had for the next two years! ”
Ash chuckled. “I wonder how her fiancé feels about that.”
“It turns out, Lila didn’t even need to say ‘I do’ for it to be the most famous wedding of the year,” Brooke noted. “We probably got more press from the disaster than if she’d actually gone through with it.”
“Did you ever hear from her?” Ash asked, looking curious. “My brother is an actor, Blake, and he says she’s disappeared from Hollywood. Nobody knows where she went.”
Brooke shook her head. “I’ve read the rumors, same as everyone. Someone said she was off in the Caribbean somewhere, or having plastic surgery in Brazil. I hope she’s OK, wherever she is.”
“The Cartwrights certainly don’t.”
They exchanged a look. As predicted, Bitsy had caused a fuss, threatening lawsuits and all kinds of retribution, but then suddenly, the angry calls had melted away. Last Brooke knew, Justin was gearing up for that political bid of his—with a new blonde girlfriend at his side.
“Well, whatever you’ve been doing here, keep it up,” Ash said with a smile. “And let’s talk in the New Year about your future plans. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already had headhunters sniffing around from the big luxury chains.”
“Well . . .” Brooke said, flushing. As soon as the dust settled after the wedding, they’d started calling—everyone from the head of events at the biggest chain hotel on the planet to the most exclusive wedding planning agencies.
She couldn’t start to think about making another big change in her life, so had politely turned them down.
But she had to admit it was nice to be asked.
Ash saw her bashful expression and laughed. “Don’t worry, they’d be fools not to. But I’d love to keep you. Here, or at one of my other properties. You can have your pick.”
Brooke paused, flattered. “Thank you. I haven’t thought about leaving, we’ve been so busy here.”
“Why don’t you think about it, and we’ll talk?” Ash got to his feet. “Now, do you think I can convince the chef to rustle me up a steak? We’ve been living off frozen casseroles at home.”
“I’m sure the boss can persuade him.”
Brooke waved him off. A promotion to one of his other, bigger properties?
Brooke should have been excited at the idea, but as she looked around the familiar lobby, she felt settled, and at home.
She’d been building a life here on Cape Cod, with a routine, friends, and even—gasp—hobbies.
It felt like she was finally back on solid ground, after a year of the ground shifting beneath her feet.
It had taken time, and work, but she finally felt like herself again, the way she’d glimpsed when she was with?—
Riley.
But no, she wasn’t thinking about him.
Brooke busied herself with upcoming wedding event plans for the rest of the day, then drove the short distance home. She changed quickly into running gear and a warm vest, and then took off along the beach path, letting the crisp afternoon air chill her lungs and set her heart pounding.
She ran every other day now, slowly increasing her pace.
Maybe she’d try for a half-marathon soon, or maybe she’d just keep enjoying the way it felt to tumble into her bed at the end of a day and fall into deep, uninterrupted sleep.
And for those few miles, her footsteps pounding on the worn dirt path, she finally allowed herself to think about the man always lingering on the edge of her mind.
The man with laughing blue eyes, and a flirty smile, and a way of making her feel like she was entirely herself.
God, she missed him.
It was such a simple thing, that little ache Brooke felt every time she thought of Riley, but it lingered, no matter how much she tried to put him out of her mind.
She wanted to pick up the phone, just to talk late into the night the way they’d done in the beginning, or to curl up in her courtyard with a cup of tea, sharing stories in the dark. And his kisses . . .
Brooke flushed, running faster as she remembered the nights with him, that tangle of pleasure, and how free she’d felt, letting go completely in his arms. She was supposed to be moving on, but every time she even thought about dating, Brooke just remembered the way she’d felt with him and knew, somehow, that it would never be the same.
She could try and find some other man, but Riley was one of a kind.
The one-of-a-kind man who had come to her, wanting a real relationship, and she’d turned him down flat.
Even now, Brooke wondered if she’d done the right thing.
Taking the time to get over her breakup was one thing, but late at night, alone, she found herself craving him, thinking maybe it didn’t matter if she was still figuring out her life, not if she got to have him back again . . .
Brooke looped around and headed back for home. She’d made the right decision giving herself space to heal, she knew that in her bones, but she also knew that didn’t make the regrets just disappear. And now that her life made sense again, those regrets had a way of whispering louder.
She’d told him she wasn’t ready.
But when would that be?
Brooke was sweating hard by the time she let herself back into the courtyard. She’d done three miles. Maybe next time, she could try four…
“Hi.”
Brooke startled at the voice, almost tripping on the stairs.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” her visitor continued. “I should have called, but . . . I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to talk.”
Brooke stared at the woman waiting outside her apartment—a face she’d never expected to see again.
It was Julia—Archer’s wife.
“How . . . How did you find me?” Brooke asked, her heart still racing from the run.
“My lawyer tracked you down.” Julia stood there, in a crisp jacket and bright-red scarf. She looked better than when Brooke had seen her last, now standing tall and confident. “Would you mind talking for a moment? I won’t stay long.”
“I . . . sure.”
Brooke’s heart sank as she climbed the stairs and unlocked the door. What did Julia want with her? In an instant, all her old shame and guilt came rushing back. How could she have so easily forgotten what she’d done to the other woman?
Brooke’s heart had been broken, but she’d torn Julia’s whole life apart.
Julia followed her into the apartment and looked around. “It’s a nice place,” she said, and Brooke swallowed.
“Thanks.” She’d been decorating, piece by piece, until it was a warm, bright space filled with art and textiles, an old record player in the corner, and plant pots spilling greenery down the window ledge. “Can I get you something to drink?” she offered, still uneasy. “I have tea, or coffee . . .”
“Bourbon?” Julia noticed a bottle on the shelf, and Brooke blinked.
“Why not?”
She fetched the bottle down and poured two glasses. She sat opposite Julia at her small dining table, and took a gulp.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Julia started, turning her tumbler around in her hands. “Don’t worry, it’s not to blame you for the collapse of my marriage.”
“You have to know how sorry I am,” Brooke said anxiously.
Julia nodded. “I know,” she sighed. “The truth is, I did hate you, for a little while. It was easier to be angry at you than at Archer. You know, after I confronted him with everything, he broke down, begging me to stay. He swore you were an evil temptress who’d set out to seduce him.”
Brooke’s jaw dropped open.
“I didn’t believe him,” Julia added quickly. “Although, a part of me wanted to. To just put all the blame on you, and move on. But, I know my husband. Soon to be ex-husband,” she added. “And I could tell you had no idea what was going on.”
“I didn’t,” Brooke said quietly. “I wish I had, that it had been different, but . . .”
“Shit happens.” Julia took a long gulp of bourbon. “Anyway, I’m divorcing him. I filed papers last month.”
“I figured,” Brooke said, putting two and two together. “He showed up here, begging for me to come back. I told him where to go,” she added.
Julia shook her head. “He can’t bear it, being alone. He always needs someone to adore him. It would be sad if he wasn’t such a bastard.”
“Agreed.” Brooke lifted her glass, and Julia clinked it in a rueful toast.
“He wants a no-fault divorce, but I’ve decided to take him for everything he has,” Julia announced, looking more cheerful.
“Would you mind if I named you in the proceedings? You’d only need to give a statement, explaining how he lied, how long the affair went on.
I know you probably don’t want to go digging through it all again, but my lawyer says it would help. ”
“Of course,” Brooke agreed. “Anything you need. I’m just so sorry it all turned out this way. Really, I feel terrible.”
“Don’t.” Julia reached across the table and patted her hand. “I’ve been down that road—the guilt, and the blame, and all the wondering if I should have seen the signs. It nearly drove me crazy.”
“So what changed?” Brooke asked. “You seem so . . . calm.”
“Well, I had a lot of therapy.” Julia cracked a smile.
“And yes, I’ll be billing him for that, too.
But I realized I have my life back now. All the things I sacrificed to support his goals, his career, I have a chance to do it on my own.
So, I’m going to Europe for a while, taking the trip I always wanted.
And then . . . who knows?” Julia shrugged.
“But this time around, it will be what I want.”
“That’s great,” Brooke said, feeling a little envious. Julia seemed to have emerged from the wreckage with more freedom and poise than she could have imagined. “You deserve it.”
“And so do you.” Julia got to her feet. “I mean it. I know you loved him, and it must have hurt like hell to find out that was a lie, but don’t let him hold you back, either.”
“I want to move on,” Brooke admitted. “I just can’t get over what a fool I was, believing in him.”
Julia gave her a sad smile. “We both did. But that’s on him, not us. For what it’s worth, I forgive you.”
“Thank you.”
Brooke showed her out, and wished her luck with her travels, closing the door behind her. Julia seemed to have found exactly what she needed to move on, but Brooke still felt those treacherous chords from the past, tugging her back when she wanted nothing more than to sever them for good.
What would it take to move on? More time? More building a life she could be proud of? Brooke had thought she was getting there, but deep down, she still didn’t quite trust herself. Trust her heart to make the right call next time, and know that the way she felt wasn’t just in vain.
Maybe it wasn’t Julia’s forgiveness over Archer she needed.
Maybe it was time to finally forgive herself for loving him.