“Let’s just wait and discuss it when you haven’t been hit by a proverbial two by four.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
“There’s a ton to discuss.”
“I’m going.”
“What about Grammy? Your job? Your brother? What about me?”
“What about what I want? I can’t stay here. What if I run into him? I can’t face him, Felicity. My heart feels like it went to war with a cheese grater and lost. There I can start over. I can be whoever I want to be and do something I enjoy. I won’t have to deal with crazy brides or my crazier boss. I won’t have to sleep in your guestroom or see my ex when I pick up coffee.”
Tears swim in her eyes, but neither of us addresses them. The tears for us being in separate states will come, and like a tsunami, they will bring fears, doubts, and uncharted conditions. “Can we just … not make a definite plan tonight?”
“I’ve already made up my mind,” I tell her.
“Maybe you should reach out to Levi. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m on your side all the way, but maybe he has a reason.”
“I’m sure he has a dozen. I just don’t think I’ll be able to accept any of them.”
Felicity rubs her lips together, nodding.
I stand and extend a hand to her, helping her up. “It’s late. I need to take a shower, and then sleep. My head’s killing me.”
She stares at me, reluctance leaves her motionless.
“I don’t want to argue. Not tonight.”
She nods, wiping at a tear that falls down her cheek. “Let’s get some sleep, and we can talk tomorrow.”
We trudge up the stairs, my head pounding with each step. I hug her when we reach the top. A thousand sentiments are shared between us, ones we don’t have to convey or translate because we each understand them by the tightness of our grips and reluctance to pull away. “Sleep well,” I tell her when we finally separate.
“You, too.”
I head to the bathroom first, taking a long shower so the steam will help my headache. My stomach growls as I dress in pajamas, but I ignore the pains of hunger and get dressed in some sweats, not caring about drying my hair.
As I drop my laundry in my room, there’s a knock on the front door that leaves me frozen. It’s too late to be anyone else.
At the doorway, I see Dan coming out of their bedroom wearing a pair of gym shorts, struggling to get a T-shirt on.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Positive.”
Reluctance shines in his eyes. “If you need me—”
“I’ll be fine.”
There’s another knock on the door that has me speeding up to reach it. I flip on the lights and pull the door open to discover Levi in a pair of dark jeans and a blue dress shirt. “Brooke,” he says, his eyes searching my face, likely discovering evidence of my tears and heartbreak. “Please, let me explain.” Sorrow mars his brow.
“You lied to me. You knew he was marrying your business partner.”
Levi shakes his head in quick, short jerks. “Not initially.”
“But you knew, and you didn’t tell me.”
He swallows, the column of his neck bobbing. I wonder if it’s regret or more omissions he’s working to suppress.
“How am I supposed to trust you when you couldn’t even tell me this?”
“I knew you’d be upset.”
“Of course I’d be upset! My ex had an affair with your business partner! You’ve seen him. You know him.”
“Who cares about him?”
I shake my head, recalling Levi having to leave to go to dinner with his business partner and fiancé on more than one occasion.
“I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea when I met you that you had any connection to him. I didn’t know he had another girlfriend. When I found out, I told Haley to break it off, that he’d do it again.”
I pull my head back, the slap of his words still fresh on my skin, making me wince. “You went to her when you found out instead of to me?”
Levi closes his mouth, searching my face for something I doubt he’ll discover because all I feel is anger and betrayal building up like a wall between us.
“It was so they’d break up, not to conspire against you.”
“Well, you did. You conspired against me when you made the decision not to be forthcoming and honest with me.”
“Brooke, I never meant to… I had no idea she was coming tonight. As soon as she showed up, I was looking everywhere for you.”
“But that’s the problem: you didn’t care until you were forced to.”
“Of course I cared! Brooke, I’ve been going out of my mind trying to figure out how to tell you.”
“Yeah, I could tell last night.” My tone has turned sarcastic and cold, just like my demeanor.
“I’m not him. Don’t let him ruin what we have.”
“Had,” I correct him. “You ruined what we had. Not him. I told you how hard it is for me to trust others.”
“She’s my business partner. I was stuck between a rock and a hard spot.”
“You mean money and sex?”
Levi drops his head back, emotion rolling off of him in waves, threatening to break my resolution. “I fucked up. I should have told you, I know. I just didn’t know how. I feel like I’ve been wrestling with so many thoughts and emotions since I found out, and by the time I did, I already loved you.”
I shake my head in short, angry jerks. “No. You don’t get to throw around words like that in situations like these. It screams of insincerity and lies. You knew. You made your decision, and so have I. I’m moving to LA.”
He rocks back on his heels as though my words are a physical force, hitting him in the stomach. “It’s not a lie, and it’s not insincere, dammit! Since the first moment I saw you, I’ve been drawn to you. Your humor, your kindness, your fucking smile—I hate when you’re not around. I hate that my pillows don’t smell like you after my house cleaner changes the sheets. And I absolutely hate the days I don’t get to see you.”
“You’re not Heath Ledger, and I’m not Julia Stiles. We aren’t doing this.”
“I didn’t do this to hurt you. I was trying to find the right way to tell you so it wouldn’t hurt you. Can’t you understand that?”
“No. I can’t. Because this isn’t the first time someone’s lied to me and told me it was for my own good without asking for my opinions or what I wanted.” I shake my head, my breaths becoming labored. “You need to leave.”
“This is it? This is how it ends? Complete and total indifference? Scream at me. Tell me I’m an asshole. Make me beg—make me work to gain your trust back. I’ll do it. I will do anything.”
I shake my head. “At least we’re original, right? We aren’t breaking up because one of us cheated.”
“Brooke, just … think about it, okay? Give it a couple of days. Please?” He reaches forward, his hand clasping mine. I don’t feel the same heat—the energy that was there just hours ago. Instead, it feels like a trap.
“I don’t need to think about it.”
His hand constricts. “Brooke—”
The door opens behind me, additional light from the house flooding us. I turn, expecting it to be Felicity, but find Dan, his arms crossed over his chest and his nostrils flared. I have no idea what Felicity told him, but it’s apparent he knows I’ve broken up with Levi.
I take a step back, and Levi’s arm stretches farther, his grip remaining.
“I think you should go,” Dan says, his arm going around my shoulders.
“I just need—”
“Hope,” I say. “You want hope, and I can’t give that to you. You shouldn’t want it anyway—hope is crueler than honesty.”
“Brooke…”
I shake my head. “Good luck with the bar.”
His hand falls, and Dan closes the door, locking it behind us. He doesn’t offer any advice or make an a
ttempt to console me, which I appreciate even more than his assistance in peeling off the rest of the Band-Aid and ending things with Levi. At the top of the stairs, we part; he goes left, and I go right to the guest bedroom. The door clicks shut behind me, and the numbness cracks as one tear falls, followed by a million more.
The door opens, and I don’t have to turn to know it’s Felicity. She closes the door behind her, and within moments she’s next to me, rubbing my back and my hair with the same motherly fashion she’s been using since we were girls, back when I experienced my first heartbreak.
41
The next morning, my head throbs worse than any hangover I’ve ever experienced. Unfortunately, it’s not just my head that aches—my heart does, too. My bed is empty. Felicity got up and left a couple of hours ago when Gemma woke up, telling me to go back to sleep for a while.
I should. I’m exhausted, and my eyes hurt to keep open, but each time I close them, I see Levi, the way he looked last night, and it allows a trickle of doubt and regret into my thoughts, and they’re getting harder and harder to drown out. I replace this unease with another and roll over to collect my laptop. I sit up and boot it up because I don’t want to risk powering on my phone and seeing missed calls or messages from Levi.
I open my email and send my final email to Catherine, resigning from my position at Glitter and Gold.
Then I cry again.
A few hours later, I’m at a restaurant on the north side of town, far too close to Levi’s new bar. The place is fancy and pristinely white. Levi would hate it. I approach the host and take a deep breath, hoping Felicity wasn’t lying when she told me it wasn’t apparent that I’d spent the past ten hours crying and that my eyes weren’t as swollen as they felt. Because I’m about to change my future and meet with Allison Hastings about my new job.
Allison does not have the bleach-blond hair I expect; instead it’s a dark maroon, and her eyes are a fierce shade of green. She doesn’t make any small talk and seems bored anytime a sentence goes more than four words. However, she also assures me that the article is mine to do with as I please. That I can write about whatever I’d like and try whatever I want and offers me a hefty budget to support these adventures. She has certain qualities that remind me of Catherine but also is nothing like her.
“How soon would you need me out there?”
Allison smiles. “How soon can you come?”
“My birthday’s in two weeks, and I’d like to be here with my family and friends.”
Her eyes have glazed over again.
“How about a month?” I ask, realizing my last sentence was too long.
“That seems reasonable.” She offers her hand to me. “I can understand why you love it here. Chicago is such a beautiful city.”
“It’s home of Walt Disney, the zipper, the first blood bank, the Twinkie, and Cracker Jacks.”
“Is that so?”
Reciting these facts I’ve learned from Levi requires me to tie a tourniquet around my emotions that come like a flood. Instead, I close my mouth to keep from sharing more.
“That’s fascinating. Well, my husband always insists we stop for hot dogs.”
I smile, nodding. “Definitely a must.”
“Well, Brooke, I’m so glad we had this opportunity to meet. I can’t wait for you to be in LA so we can start working together. And believe me, I think you’ll appreciate the palm trees and the sun. No humidity, no wind—you’re going to think you’ve died and gone to heaven.” She laughs, and I try to join along, though my vision blurs with tears.
She doesn’t notice, distracted by one of her two phones that starts ringing. “I’ll be in touch,” she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Again, so nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” I say, but she’s already heading toward the exit.
I follow after her, taking a deep breath once I make it outside. The streets are congested with pedestrians and cars, the lunch hour creating a sense of chaos that is as therapeutic as it is overwhelming. I pace myself getting to the L Train and ride it to my stop, taking my time and not thinking about anything.
“How’d it go?” Felicity asks when I step inside.
I nod. “It went well. She seems smart. Driven.” I shrug.
“You know, you don’t have to take it. You could quit and find something else. Maybe reach out to that woman at the Herald.”
“She only wanted to interview me, not give me a job,” I remind her. I take a deep breath and kick off my shoes. I appreciate her words more than I’ll admit. It feels nice to know she’s allowing me the same opportunity I’ve been too scared to consider. But I’m not ready to discuss that. Regardless, it’s time I make some decisions. I’ve been living in her guest room for six months in which most of my life has been packed into boxes. “She wants me to write an article for her,” I tell Felicity. “An article about what single women should do or try, as a segue to me joining the magazine.”
“Oh, yeah?”
I nod. “I also asked her to allow me a month before moving out there.”
“Was she okay with that?”
“She said it was reasonable. I don’t know what that means. When Catherine said ‘reasonable,’ it meant she was expecting tougher terms. Maybe I should have negotiated for more time?”
“Have you heard from Catherine yet?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t turned on my phone.”
“You rode all the way into Chicago without your phone? Are you crazy?”
“You realize twenty years ago people didn’t have phones and all survived, right? Sometimes, I miss those days, when we actually had to look at each other and have a conversation rather than everyone always staring at their phones and ignoring life and the world around them.”
Felicity wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Well, you better keep your phone on you when you move to LA because I am going to be calling you every single day.”
I shift, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she leans it on my shoulder. It’s as though I can feel her thoughts and concerns, likely because I’ve had the very same ones since hearing the job was in California—what will happen to us?
“I have to tell Grammy,” I say. “I have no idea how she’s going to react to this.”
“She’ll be happy for you.”
“She won’t get on an airplane.”
“But you will.” I know it’s taking a toll on my best friend to once again be supportive and work to keep me both positive and focused. It’s the same role I was in when she got engaged and before she walked down the aisle. When she had a death grip on me and pleaded with me to tell her she was making the right decision. Not because she didn’t love Dan, but because we both knew a monumental change was about to happen and she needed my assurance then as much as I need hers now.
“You’re right,” I say.
“I always am. Want to eat candy and watch TV until the kiddos wake up?”
“Is my name Brooke?”
She laughs and heads to the kitchen to retrieve candy from her secret stash I’ve been adding to since moving in.
I spend the week at home with Felicity. Some days I don’t get out of my pajamas—other days I get dressed and wear a mask of makeup so we can go to the park and find a new favorite doughnut shop. We watch movies, play chase, and build forts in nearly every room in the house. I don’t turn my phone on except to call Grammy and make plans to see her on Sunday.
The drive out to see Grammy is long. Though I know I’ll be here again, I focus on even the minute details, trying to remember and appreciate each of them. I wish I’d thought ahead and asked my brother to go so I could have told them both at once. It would have been selfish but easier since admitting my move to myself has gotten harder with each passing day, ensuring me it will be damn near impossible to share it with my family.
I find Grammy in the back, where she’s watering her tomato plants. She straightens, her eyebrows furrowing, creating deep grooves along her forehead. “What’s bot
hering you?”
I shake my head.
“You want to play a game of cards?”
“Yeah.”
“I made some fresh tea.”
“Even better.”
She pats my arm and then my backside as we walk toward the house. “Are you hungry?”
“No, thanks.” I haven’t been hungry in a week.
Grammy goes to pull out a tin that holds several decks of cards while I get the tea from the fridge and fill two large glasses. I place one in front of Grammy while she shuffles and take a long drink in an attempt to push down the large ball forming in my throat.
“Five-hand poker?” she asks.
“Only if you want to lose.”
Grammy laughs, placing the cards before me to be cut.
I beat her three hands in a row.
Grammy shakes her head. “You were born lucky,” she says. “You should go to Vegas. You’d be rich.”
I know I’m more privileged than most, but as of late, luck feels like a stranger. “I quit my job.” The words fall from my mouth like a trap door was pulled free.
Grammy glances up from the cards, and though it’s my turn to deal, she does it.
“I accepted a new job,” I continue. “I’ll be writing, actually. You know my blog I told you about?”
She neatly stacks the remaining cards into a pile, placing them at her side, and nods.
“I’ll be working for a magazine but continuing the blog on a much larger platform.”
“Is that what you want?”
My nostrils flare, and tears tickle my eyes. “I think so.”
Grammy nods. “Trying new things can be scary, but you’ve been at the event planning place for a long time. I kind of thought you might open your own place one day.”
“You did?”
She nods.
“Is it strange that I never really considered where I’d be?”
Grammy shakes her head slowly, her gaze dropping to the table. “You’re young. You have lots of time to decide what you want to be.”
“I’m almost thirty.”
The Fallback Page 35
