CHAPTER TEN
The Problem with Brooks
Dad has been asleep for the past two hours, his deep, even breathing the only sound in the quiet hospital room.
When I first arrived this morning, he was awake just for a minute. Long enough to find my eyes and squeeze my hand with surprising strength. The relief nearly split me in two.
I should be working on a social media strategy. I should be queuing up posts, replying to comments, and proving to the world that I haven’t completely disappeared.
But instead, all I can think about is Brooks.
And his stupid, smug, "Don’t worry, Ellie. You’ll always be my first crush" remark.
It plays on a loop in my head like an annoying song stuck on repeat, popping up at the most inconvenient times. I don’t want to be thinking about him. I don’t want to be dissecting the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long before he walked away.
But here I am.
I huff out a breath and pull my laptop onto my lap, determined to distract myself with actual work. It’s easier than thinking about Brooks.
Or Dad.
The nurses told me to talk to him while he was briefly awake earlier. I kept the conversation light and upbeat. I told him about Jasper’s project last night, about how brilliant and talented his only son is.
But the moment the words left my mouth, I watched something in his face fall.
His gaze drifted around the room, searching for Jasper.
And he didn’t find him.
A tight knot forms in my chest as I stare at the blank screen of my laptop, my fingers unmoving on the keys.
For once, I don’t know what to say.
I open an email from Big Belle.
Hey there, fellow social media queen!
I read through the short message. She wants to know if Edna passed along the contract. She also mentions that she saw my post about being back home and wants to make sure I’m okay.
If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. Much love, Belle.
I stare at the words, my cursor blinking over the reply button.
Neither Sierra nor Lyla reached out to me. They didn’t even ask why I missed the brand trip.
They just… ghosted me.
But Belle? Belle didn’t.
I don’t want to respond to her, but I know I need to. I need to do something productive. I need to stop thinking about him.
Brooks.
He had a crush on me? That shouldn’t be messing with my head, but somehow, it is.
I should have noticed, right? It’s not like he wasn’t around.
He used to yank my ponytail in grade school, and I definitely remember the way he always managed to snag the seat next to me on the bus, especially on the days we didn’t ride our bikes to school.
He was always there. Close enough to notice, but never close enough to be right in front of me.
Because he’s always been Jasper’s best friend.
And that’s exactly where he needs to stay.
I need a distraction.
Exhaling, I decide to type out my response to Big Belle.
Looking it over this afternoon! Let’s set up a Zoom call to get the ball rolling. —Elowen
Short. Direct. No fluff.
Belle isn’t Sierra or Lyla. She’s not looking for dirt or shade to throw at me. She’s worse than that. She actually cares. And in this business, caring too much about people never ends well.
My stomach grumbles, loud enough to echo in the quiet hospital room. I groan, pressing a hand against my stomach.
I forgot to eat breakfast.
In my rush to get out of the house this morning, I barely grabbed my bag before slipping out the door. Mom was still curled up in the recliner, fast asleep, and Jasper was moving around in his room, probably already working on his next project.
Surprisingly, Brooks’ truck wasn’t in the driveway.
I guess that means his date went well last night.
A sliver of something sharp and unwelcome coils around my chest, wrapping tight.
It’s not jealousy. I have no reason to care who Brooks spends his time with.
His conquests—or whatever you’d call them—have nothing to do with me.
If anything, I should feel relief that he wasn’t hovering around this morning, throwing out one of his stupid, Brooks-like lines.
He’s infuriating.
So, why can’t I stop thinking about him?
I exhale and glance at my phone. Two in the afternoon.
When did that happen?
I sigh, snapping my laptop shut and sliding it into my bag before standing and stretching. My limbs ache from spending too much time in this unforgiving hospital chair, my back stiff from sitting in the same position for hours.
I need food.
And maybe—no, not maybe—I definitely need to stop thinking about Brooks.
Distraction. I need a distraction.
Food. Cafeteria. Yes.
I bend and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, and step toward Dad’s bedside. His breathing is steady, his face relaxed in sleep. Gently, I run my hand over his thinning hair and whisper, "I’ll be right back."
A nurse passes me in the sterile hallway, and I offer her a small smile. She returns it, but it barely reaches her eyes. Other than the occasional ringing of a phone and the distant beeping of machines, the place feels eerily lifeless.
My feet carry me toward the elevator, and I press the button, waiting as the doors slide open.
My eyes flick to the man standing inside, his navy scrubs crisp and familiar.
He looks at me like he knows me.
"Elowen?"
The recognition slams into me just as his name slips from my lips. "Holden?"
My ex-boyfriend. The guy who cheated on me with Jana Flenning.
For a second, I just stare. His sandy-blond hair is cropped shorter than I remember, his golden-green eyes still bright, like a meadow in early autumn. He’s always been annoyingly gorgeous, but standing there in scrubs, looking like a walking daydream, I almost forget to breathe.
Almost.
He smiles, easy and familiar, like we’re old friends catching up. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in LA."
Oh. So he’s been keeping up with my social media. Interesting.
"My dad had a stroke," I say, my voice neutral. "I came home to be with him."
His expression shifts, softening with something that looks dangerously close to sympathy. "I’m so sorry, Ellie."
I nod, not willing to linger on that. "What about you?" I ask, gesturing to his scrubs. "You work here?"
"First-year resident," he says, and for some reason, that catches me off guard.
"You’re going to be a doctor?" I blink, surprised at the words even as I say them.
He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah. Hard to believe, huh?"
I don’t respond because, honestly? Yeah. It is hard to believe.
"You heading home?" he asks, shifting slightly closer.
I shake my head, forcing myself to break free from whatever weird nostalgia is creeping in. "No, just grabbing something to eat in the cafeteria."
Holden’s smile grows. "Mind if I join you?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, that sounds… nice."
We fall into easy small talk as we grab brown food trays and move down the cafeteria line.
Holden went to school in Little Rock—less than two hours away—but spent weekends back home helping out at his dad’s lumber mill, the one Dad works at.
Worked at? Special orders, mostly. His younger sister, Mabel, who was in the same grade as Jasper and Brooks, got married last summer and is expecting twins. His life is… neat. Simple. Settled.
"What about you?" he presses, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "What have you been up to?"
I exhale, reaching for an orange. "Turning out content and trying to go on brand trips."
His eyebrows lift, clearly impressed. "Sounds pretty glamorous to me."
"It’s not as glamorous as it sounds," I counter as he motions toward a few empty tables near the floor-to-ceiling windows.
We sit, and I absently wave a hand through the air. "It’s all so… superficial."
"You’ve never been one for superficiality," Holden laughs.
I smirk. "I’m as real as they come." But I’m not. Not really.
"You are," he reinforces, and for a moment, we just… smile at each other. A little too long.
And it makes me feel seen in a way that isn’t filtered or curated. I don’t know if that’s comforting—or dangerous.
I shift, scratching the side of my face. "This might be a weird question, but why did you choose to do your residency here?"
Holden clicks his tongue, hesitating before answering. "Fair question. When I found out Mabel was pregnant, I didn’t want to be too far away. I want my nieces or nephews to know me. I’ve been so busy the past few years that I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss out on anything else."
"That’s sweet," I murmur, hiding a smile behind my hand.
He grins. "I’m a sweet guy."
I chuckle. "You were. Then you cheated on me."
Holden groans, leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head like this conversation physically pains him. "Oh, Ellie, do we have to go there?"
I start peeling the orange.
"I think we do have to go there."
He sighs dramatically. "It was one kiss. And it sucked."
I scoff. "Just a kiss? You spent the night at her house."
"It was a party," he argues. "I slept on the couch. With, like, three other guys."
I tilt my head, sizing him up. "I don’t know if I believe you."
"Why would I lie about it now?" he challenges.
I pop a piece of orange into my mouth, chewing as I consider. "I don’t know. But that was not cool."
"Biggest regret of my life," he says sincerely.
I don’t get the chance to respond before a shadow falls over the table.
I glance up.
And immediately regret it.
Brooks stands there, arms crossed, expression carved from stone.
"Elowen," he greets smoothly. Then, with barely concealed distaste, he turns to Holden. "Boy who cheated on Elowen in high school and ruined junior prom for her."
I groan, running a hand down my face. "That’s a little dramatic."
Brooks frowns, unbothered. "Why are you eating with him?"
Holden’s eyebrows shoot up as he glances between us.
"What do you want, Brooks?" I exhale heavily, already exhausted by whatever this is.
"You weren’t in your dad’s room," he replies, his tone hard to read. "And I wasn’t home this morning to make sure you ate."
Holden’s brows really shoot up at that. "Do you guys… live together?"
"No," I say at the exact moment Brooks says, "Yes."
I whip my head toward Brooks. "We do not live together. He just… stays over." I wave a hand dismissively.
Holden blinks. "Oh." He nods, recalibrating. "I thought maybe you were roommates."
Brooks’ head snaps back like he’s been physically struck by lightning. "We’re not roommates. I just don’t bother going home."
Holden lifts his hands. "Got it. Sorry."
"It’s still odd," I say, giving Brooks a pointed look. "Most men go home to their houses at night."
Brooks glares at me, Holden looks like he wishes he could evaporate, and I, for once, actually enjoy the chaos.
Holden’s pager beeps, and he sighs, glancing down at it like he really doesn’t want to go. "I have to run," he says, barely sparing Brooks a glance. Then, turning back to me, his smile returns. "Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?"
I hesitate for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. I’d like that."
Brooks scoffs loudly beside me, rolling his eyes so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t sprain something.
Holden either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He stands when I do, his gaze warm. "It was really great seeing you, Ellie." Then, without another word, he picks up his tray and rushes out of the cafeteria.
The second he’s gone, Brooks mutters, "He is such a loser."
I slap his stomach—not hard, but enough to make him grunt—and spin to face him. "What is your problem?"
He tilts his head, feigning innocence. "Where do you want me to start, Elowen?"
I groan. "Why are you always everywhere I am?"
Brooks doesn’t miss a beat, reaching over to steal a slice of my peeled orange. "Small town, Ellie. There are only so many places to be."
"Go. Away."
He just grins, completely unfazed. Then, without invitation, he slides into Holden’s abandoned chair and motions to my barely touched tray. "After you eat."
I narrow my eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Eat," he repeats, like I’m a toddler refusing vegetables. "I’ll keep you company."
I let out an exaggerated groan before dropping back into my seat, knowing full well he’s not going anywhere until I do. "Oh, joy."
Brooks just smirks, popping the orange slice into his mouth like he’s won some kind of battle. I’m just not sure what battle that is.