Love Again, Love for Them: A Novel

by Lee, R. A.

  “It’s clear that you’re never going to leave your husband,” he said. “I am content with that. It’s been this way for so long I don’t know anything else. I’ve been happy, but I need something more.”

  For some reason, when Brooke made a decision based on his indecision, he realized he had to figure out where he wanted to be and whom he wanted to be with. The clear choice was Jenny. He had loved her for as long as they had been together.

  At some point in the last few months, though, Brooke had somehow made him realize there was much more to their relationship than just a mutual agreement. She had put up with him going back and forth, but her patience had run out.

  Brooke never wanted him to base his choice on guilt, but his feelings for her had gone beyond that. He had shared more with Brooke in the short time they had been together than he ever shared with Jenny.

  Brooke couldn’t twist his feelings like Jenny. Whatever he felt for Brooke was not that strong. But the twisting from Jenny was now tiresome.

  Was it better to be in love with someone who clearly didn’t want him in her life, or settle for someone with whom he could build a life?

  This had been his struggle and he wasn’t winning on either side.

  “What more could you want, darling?” she asked irritated, crossing her arms over her beautiful bosom.

  “A promise,” he answered.

  Sighing, Jenny glared at him.

  “What kind of promise?” she asked.

  “The next time you’re single, you will come to me,” he stated. “We can talk from there.”

  Leaning forward, Jenny uncrossed her arms and pointed at Jake.

  “Why are you making these demands?” she whispered angrily.

  Leaning back, she turned away and crossed her arms again.

  “What we have is great, Jake,” she said exhausted. “Why do you want to change what we have? I have never promised you anything more. I don’t know if I can even promise you that much.”

  “I am pleading and begging with you, Jenny,” he said, lowering his head. This never went well. He had been here before. He would probably be there again.

  Gathering her things, Jenny stood.

  “I can’t make any promises, Jake,” she said. Waiting for his response, Jenny stood challenging him.

  With his head still lowered, Jake had made a decision.

  “I love you, Jenny, I always will,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t do this anymore. If it’s too much for you to talk to me before you marry again, then I can’t do this anymore.”

  Gasping, Jenny composed herself. Jake looked up, his hands clenched white on the table in front of him.

  “Then this is it,” she declared and turned and walked away. Jake didn’t watch her depart. Breathing was painful and he wanted to run and stop her, but he stopped himself.

  In his deepest prayers, he wished she would walk back and tell him she would promise. It seemed like such a simple promise. He wasn’t asking her to marry him. He just wanted a chance to discuss their future.

  Waiting for an hour, Jake realized she wasn’t coming back. Pulling out some money, Jake stood and threw it on the table. Each step took him further away from her.

  Each step was harder than the next, his legs got heavier and heavier as he got to the sidewalk.

  Looking around, he realized she wasn’t waiting for him. There would be no dramatic moment where she drove up, declared her love and they would live happily ever after.

  Arriving at his condo, Jake sat and stared at the artwork Jenny had purchased for him. The new paintings mocked him. All the pain Brooke felt in the world was splattered on large canvases hanging from his condo wall.

  The only piece he ever appreciated was the one he chose himself and he stared at it from the couch.

  Jake didn’t need the confusion. Standing, he lifted the canvas off the wall and turned it around. Setting it on the floor, he leaned it carefully against the wall.

  It was an original SANDSTROM and someone had written his name on it. It had to be respected for the unique inspiration it represented, and Jake couldn’t do that at the moment.

  Jake went to his room and took a long hot shower.

  In bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms on his stomach, Jake prayed for an answer.

  He knew he had broken so many rules he didn’t expect much. His sin was great, but if he made a mistake, it was in the name of love.

  Jake couldn’t go back to Brooke now. He knew how Brooke felt about being a rebound.

  Staying in the city until he figured out where he was going would be the best for everyone.

  Needing a friend, Jake closed his eyes and thought about the way Brooke had held his hand that night in the woods.

  Was she just a friend? he wondered. Thinking about holding her hand, Jake had a need to run to her, but that would be a mistake. Brooke had already told him love was involved.

  Never did he think Brooke would have that emotion for him. Fighting it, she had some epiphany and now there was no going back. Either Jake chose to be with her and work on their marriage, or she was moving on. He could not go to her and talk to her like a friend.

  He thought of the next best thing.

  Getting out of bed, he went to the living room, picked up her canvas artwork, brought it to his room, and propped it on his dresser.

  Lying back on the bed, Jake looked at the sad piece of art. Brooke had put everything she felt into the painting. It represented her essence. Staring at it, Jake felt comforted. He closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep.

  Chapter 34

  Jake spent a week staring at Brooke’s painting every day and every night.

  At the moment, they were both in the same city, each mourning their loss.

  Brooke was in her townhouse, trying to recapture memories of better days, knowing no matter what, they would not return.

  Jake still couldn’t believe that he had broken up with Jenny. For a second time.

  The longer he stayed in the city, the longer he wanted to visit Brooke.

  But why? She was on the verge of leaving him as well. Jake had disappointed her too many times.

  Running one day, he had made his way to the gallery where Brooke had her exhibit.

  Why didn’t I pay more attention to her? he wondered as he stood outside the gallery. She had created that artwork while he sat in her studio.

  He knew it was her artwork, though. Subconsciously he knew. He didn’t put the name together, but his mind must have known. The artist Sandstrom, he didn’t notice it until he saw Brooke being introduced as the artist. She was going by her first husband’s last name.

  It was a message to him.

  Jake knew he had pushed her away. Brooke didn’t need him anymore.

  It was a new feeling for Jake. The woman who married him for security was going to leave him because she had gotten up once again and was ready for the next punch in the face, as she had put it.

  This confidence made Jake seriously reconsider his relationship. He was never able to compare anyone to Jenny. Sophisticated, beautiful, elegant Jenny.

  The more he got to know Brooke, the more he did compare her to Jenny. It wasn’t based on looks, no other woman could compare to Jenny, but it was her fierce spirit she was unleashing more and more every day.

  Brooke wasn’t homely, but she wasn’t elegant or stunning. She was nice looking, but it was her moments of total abandon and strength that made her more beautiful.

  Jake couldn’t deny it anymore. He was connecting more and more to Brooke, but he couldn’t make that first step over to love.

  Standing in front of her gallery, Jake started to turn to head back to the condo and get to work when he saw a familiar figure emerge from the gallery.

  Dressed in a coat tucked tight around her, Brooke didn’t see Jake at first, but when she did, she scowled at him.

  Jake didn’t want to anger her, so he turned and left. Running back to his condo, Jake realized it was such a cowardly move. />
  But the next day, he found himself right back at the same spot.

  He didn’t see Brooke, so he headed back to his condo.

  At work, Jake couldn’t concentrate. He had no idea how to deal with his feelings for Brooke and the breakup with Jenny.

  When his phone rang, Jake was embarrassed that he tried to hide from a call.

  It was Brooke.

  Picking up the phone, Jake answered it.

  “Hello,” he said and waited for her to scream or yell or be angry with him.

  “Meet me at the gallery tonight,” was all she said in a calm voice that offered nothing as to what her emotional state would be like once he arrived.

  Jake immediately got up, told his secretary he was taking a long lunch, and he went back to his condo.

  Preparing for his meeting with Brooke, Jake took a very long run, far away from the gallery, and came back exhausted. As he showered in a long, hot, steamy shower, the tension rolled off him and he was ready to meet the other woman in his life.

  Driving up to the gallery, with cars waiting for the valet, Jake realized she had invited him to another party. Stepping inside the converted warehouse building, Jake looked cautiously for Brooke.

  Looking across the room, Jake saw her. Standing casually waiting for him in a long floral gown, she watched his reaction.

  Surrounded by other men, being praised for her work, others admiring her external qualities, Jake was actually jealous for the first time when it came to Brooke. Confident and strong, she didn’t need him.

  Turning, Jake wanted to leave. This was some sort of test or tease and he wasn’t interested.

  Jake saw her agent and pulled him aside.

  “Tell her I’ll be at the downtown hotel where we met,” he said, and waited for his car and drove off to the hotel.

  He needed a neutral setting. The condo was his ground, the gallery hers.

  Sitting at the lounge, where he first saw her tear into some fool who overreached his bounds, Jake waited. He wasn’t sure if she would ever appear, but he was willing to wait for a very long time.

  Hours later, the elevator opened, but Jake had since stopped bothering to see if it was Brooke. He had counted 55 people getting off the elevator since he started counting.

  This time it was Brooke. Their eyes met and she just stood there.

  Jake stood and turned. He sat at the bar as he had done that very first night.

  Back then it was she who needed him. This time, he wasn’t sure if either one needed the other.

  Ordering two white wines, Jake waited while the bartender brought the two glasses. Brooke hadn’t sat down and Jake wondered if she left.

  “When you looked across the room,” he heard her say from behind him, “what did you think?”

  Staring at the muted TV, Jake took a drink of his wine and answered honestly.

  “I was jealous,” he stated in a low deep voice. It was an admission he didn’t want to make.

  With the touch of her hand on his back, Jake almost melted. Sitting beside him, she took the other glass and drank as well.

  “If you didn’t know me, Jake,” she asked. “Would you have wanted to get to know me better? If you saw me at the gallery, would you want to take me home?”

  Drinking to clear his dry throat, Jake knew it was a night for honest answers.

  “To tell you the truth,” he said. “If I wasn’t completely in love with a woman I just broke up with I would have wanted to get to know you better and take you home.”

  “Then you’re not,” she said and Jake turned to her. Eyes resolute, Brooke wanted to be seen for her own qualities and not be compared to Jenny. They were both capable of jealousy.

  “What game are you playing?” he asked hoarsely. “We should have never gotten together that night,” he insisted.

  “I should have left, you should have come to your senses,” he said. “Look where we are now.”

  “We’re here now for many reasons, Jake,” she said. “One of them is the fact that we did get together. Everything up to now has been inspiration, Jake.”

  “Even now?” he asked almost sarcastically.

  “You’re obviously in pain over your lover,” she said and got up to leave. Jake gently grasped her wrist and she stopped.

  “I want to take you home tonight,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Brooke lowered her head.

  “What are you waiting for?” she demanded.

  Letting go of her arm, Jake threw some bills on the counter and followed Brooke to the elevator.

  Waiting separately and quietly, they rode down the elevator, waited for his car at the valet station and drove to his condo.

  The elevator doors opened and he watched and she entered the condo.

  Unzipping her gown, Brooke let it slide to the floor. She stood naked except for her lace underwear and bra.

  Pushing himself from the wall of the elevator and out into the foyer, Jake scrutinized Brooke as she stood defiant before him.

  Without saying anything, Jake took her hand as he walked past. Taking her to his room, Jake stood behind her holding her shoulders. Brooke saw the painting on his dresser.

  “What do you think?” Brooke asked, admiring his taste.

  “What am I supposed to think?” he asked.

  “Whatever you want,” she said.

  “It makes me sad,” he replied. “All your work makes me sad.”

  “That’s an educated response?” she asked rhetorically.

  “I don’t claim to understand art,” he said.

  “Why have it in your room,” she asked shivering. He couldn’t tell whether she was reacting to the situation or the cold on her semi-nude body. He had never seen her in lace underwear.

  “I was lonely,” he confessed. “I needed a friend.”

  Jake could hear Brooke swallow that last word like dry toast.

  “I guess that’s my answer then,” she shrugged. “I’m your friend.”

  “I don’t know what you are, Brooke,” he said.

  “Ever look at the back of the piece?” she asked.

  Jake had but didn’t remember anything interesting.

  Sauntering over to the canvas, Brooke turned the art piece around and waited like a sexy showcase model. Jake was distracted at the sight of her in lace underwear and high heels.

  “I got them in Paris,” she said proudly, noticing that he was admiring her new look.

  Jake walked up to the painting and took a look at the scribble he had seen before.

  “It’s just my name,” he said. It was the first piece of art he ever bought for himself. The gallery must have put his name on it.

  “That’s the name of the piece, Jake,” she explained. It took a moment for him to understand the meaning.

  “That was inspired by me?” he asked incredulously. He had never inspired anyone before. Standing in sexy underwear, his talented, sexy, estranged wife was telling him he had chosen her inspiration for him.

  “It’s sad because you’re sad, Jake,” she said. “The other piece, that’s how I felt when I saw you with Jenny. This one is about you.”

  Jake stumbled back and dropped onto the end of his platform bed.

  Brooke turned the canvas around, propped it up on the dresser and joined Jake on the bed. They sat quietly contemplating where they were and where they were going.

  “You’re in my life, Jake,” she said. “I don’t know what that means, but I can’t just walk away. I will never be over Matthew, but I am somehow connected to you.”

  Brooke put her hand on his. Jake pulled his hand away and gripped hers tightly.

  “Who did you come to see that night, Jake,” she asked softly. It was a question he knew she needed answered.

  “I came to congratulate you,” he said. “I realized how selfish I was and I wanted to congratulate you. I wanted to support you in your success. When you came to my house, you were so angry and withdrawn. You turned that into something inspirational. I stood in o
ur kitchen and it was so lonely. I had to tell you how proud I was. But right at that moment, when I saw you with that man, I didn’t think you needed me. I didn’t think it mattered what I thought.”

  “Once you congratulated me, would you then have gone off with Jenny?” she asked.

  Lowering his head, Jake nodded.

  “If Matthew ever shows up, if cloning ever becomes a reality,” she said, “If I ever had a chance to be with him, I wouldn’t hesitate either, Jake. There is always going to be a distance between us.”

  Brooke pulled a folded magazine clipping from inside her bra and handed it to him. Releasing his grip, Jake took the clipping thinking she wanted to show him a review.

  Unfolding it, Jake nearly dropped the clipping.

  It was a picture of Jenny. There was also a picture of her aging husband.

  DUKE PASSES the headline read.

  His love was free to marry or be with whomever she wanted. Brooke pointed to the date. It was weeks old.

  Standing, Brooke caressed Jake’s head and he leaned into her embrace.

  “I’m going home,” she said. “You know where to find me. I need to know your decision. I have to prepare my son and your mother.” Releasing him, Brooke sauntered out the door while Jake gripped the clipping.

  There was his answer. She had been divorced for weeks and she hadn’t returned to Jake.

  Getting on a flight to see her would be easy. He could go and see if she was still angry with him. He just needed to talk to her.

  Standing, Jake went to his closet and pulled out a bag. Throwing it on his dresser, the painting he inspired started to slip. Jake straightened it and froze.

  He had choices. He could run off and implore the woman he loved to return to him. He could try to work out his marriage with the woman who found inspiration in him. He could be alone.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jake realized he needed to make a choice.

  …

  Driving back to Brooke’s neighborhood, Jake decided to let Brooke know what he had chosen. Pulling up to her house, he saw a FOR SALE sign on the front lawn in front of her townhouse and the words SOLD over it.

  Jake gasped as he saw the sign.

  Unlike Jake, Brooke had made her decision. Whatever he decided, she wasn’t going to let her memories overtake her. It would always be a struggle, but she had to keep getting back up.