The Redemption Series

by Leigh, T. K.

  I pause, leaving out the other things he said, namely how he wanted to make amends for standing me up the morning he left for college. I never told Molly about Drew being my first kiss. After the pain he caused, I didn’t want anyone to know, wanted to forget about it.

  “I knew he was drunk and hurting so I shouldn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth, but I wanted to.” I look to the sky, tears streaming down my cheeks, before returning my eyes to hers. “God, Molly. I’d been waiting years to hear him say something like that. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to watch him date woman after woman after woman, then learn he got married?”

  Molly remains stunned mute by my story, the words I’ve been too scared to speak for years spilling forward.

  “It was fucking torture. But what could I do? Tell him?” I swipe at my tears, wrapping my arms around my stomach. “He’d never choose me over the models he dated.”

  “What happened?”

  “He made so many promises, told me he loved me, how it’s only ever been me. We didn’t sleep together, as much as I wanted to. We did…other things. A lot of other things. Everything except…” My face heats from the memory alone, but I push it down. “He said he wanted to be sober when he made love to me.” The little composure I have left cracks, a new wave of tears spilling forward. I meet Molly’s eyes and repeat the words he said, as if it happened just days ago, not years. “Because, with me, it would be so much more than sex. I was stupid and believed him when I should have been smart enough to know they were just the drunken ramblings of a man scared of losing everything.”

  She looks at me with an unfocused gaze. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t he say anything?”

  A sudden chill envelopes me and I run my hands along my arms. “Because he doesn’t know.” I’m not sure what’s worse. The fact that I kept this from Molly…or from Drew.

  Her eyes widen, her jaw becoming slack. “What? How?”

  “He was drunk. Really drunk.”

  Understanding washes over her expression. “And with his head injuries, excessive amounts of alcohol can severely impact his memory.”

  I nod. “When I was making breakfast the next morning, I overheard him talking on the phone. A few things he said piqued my curiosity, so I crept down the hall and eavesdropped. I only heard his side of the conversation, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was talking to Carla, that she told him she was pregnant, that she wanted to work things out for their kids’ sakes. As much as I wanted to be angry, I couldn’t, not when he was trying to do right by Alyssa and the baby on the way. He finished the phone call, then came into the living room and looked at me with so much guilt. I wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. That’s when he said he couldn’t remember much of the night before and asked if we slept together. It was a logical assumption, I suppose, especially when you wake up in a girl’s bed. God, it hurt so much to know he couldn’t remember, to know I was that forgettable, even if there was a medical reason for it.”

  “What did you say?” Her voice is low, almost hesitant.

  “I told him he passed out on my bed and I slept in my dad’s room, that nothing happened.”

  Molly’s lips parted and she shook her head, eyes wide. “Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth, deserves a chance to make it right?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. Drew and me… We’re like opposing magnets. No matter how hard you try to bring us together, an outside force will always pull us apart. But Wes… He’s done something no other man ever has. I may not love him, but he has made me a priority. Do you know I thought he was cheating on me?”

  Molly remains silent.

  “After you orchestrated my dress shopping excursion with Drew, I decided to surprise Wes at his office. But even though he claimed he would be working late that night, he wasn’t there. And after spending the day with Drew, I was happy he wasn’t there. As ridiculous as it sounds, there was a part of me that wanted Wes to cheat on me. It would mean I’d be off the hook.

  “When I got home that Saturday after going to the museum with Drew and the girls, Wes was sitting on my front stoop, worried sick about where I’d been since I’d shut off my phone. He told me what he was doing Friday afternoon when he lied about working late. Do you want to know what that was?”

  She simply stares at me.

  “Buying us a plot of land where he could build me my dream house. He wanted to surprise me on our wedding night. His plan was beautiful. And I ruined it. Then he got down on one knee and proposed all over again. This time with a ring that’s exactly like the one I’ve always imagined instead of his original choice.” I close my eyes, toying with the beautiful diamond sitting on my left hand. “Wes is a good man. He’s done nothing but make me a priority, and I’ve done nothing but piss on his affection in the hopes that the promises Drew made would come to fruition.” I shake my head.

  “I can’t do this anymore. Wes and Drew cannot coexist in my heart. The memory of Drew’s words, of hearing him tell me he loved me as he gave me one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had, still tortures me. And he was too drunk to even fucking remember.”

  “But—”

  Instantly, the sound of glass shattering rings from behind me. I whirl around, my heart plummeting to the pit of my stomach when I see Drew standing on the back deck. The remnants of a wine glass are broken around his feet, red wine dripping down the stairs.

  His mouth is agape, his eyes wide, his legs frozen in place. Everything is still, no one moving as we all stand there, shocked, my truth lingering in the air.

  His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “I thought you might want a glass of wine.” As much as I’d love to believe otherwise, his expression makes it obvious he heard enough to know what happened all those years ago.

  I snap out of my shock and look at Molly. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner, but now you know why things are the way they are.” My gaze floats to Drew. “Why they need to be the way they are.” Then I hurry up the steps, narrowly skirting Drew’s hand, and rush inside the house, Gigi meeting me when she sees my bewildered expression.

  “Is everything all right, dear?” She steps in front of me, placing her hands on my arms.

  “I’m suddenly not feeling very well. I need to go home.”

  “Of course,” she says, dropping her hold on me. I push past her, grateful she doesn’t press the issue for once. Just as I’m about to disappear out of the house, she calls, “You can’t run from love forever.”

  I pause in my steps, looking over my shoulder.

  “It’ll find you. It always does.”

  “Please, Gigi,” I beg. “Now is not the time for yet another one of your pearls of wisdom.”

  “On the contrary. Apparently, now is the perfect time. The ones we love the hardest are the ones we hurt the most. He lost you once. Don’t think for a second he’ll make the same mistake again.”

  “I can’t do this right now,” I choke out and hurry away. Emptiness settles in the pit of my stomach as I rush out of the house, considering Gigi’s words. What does she know? Was she listening in on my conversation with Molly?

  As I dart down the steps and stride toward my car, my focus is elsewhere. I come to an abrupt stop when I practically slam into Drew as he stands by the driver’s side door, his arms crossed, his stance wide.

  Avoiding his eyes, I try to push him aside. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” The pain in his voice forces my gaze to his. But that hurt is no match for the agony covering his entire body, his muscles tight, his stare filled with betrayal. He’s barely holding it together. Just like me.

  My stomach hardens as I part my lips, searching my brain for what to tell him. There were so many times I wish I’d been truthful with him about that night, so many times I almost did tell him. But I reminded myself keeping it a secret was the right thing to do. He just found out he was going to be a father again. Wha
t if I told him the truth and he abandoned Carla to pursue something with me? Worse, what if I told him and he still chose her? At the time, I had no reason to believe otherwise. I still don’t.

  With a quiver in my voice, I peer into his eyes. “You couldn’t remember. I just wanted to forget. So please, Drew…” I swallow hard through the excruciating pain in my throat, in my chest, in my heart. “Let me forget you,” I finish with a sob, pushing past him and opening the door to my car.

  “I can’t do that,” he responds, his own voice filled with so much emotion, it cuts me in two. “I can’t let you forget me, not when I care about you the way I do.” His hand grips my bicep and I whirl around, staring at him with fiery eyes. He releases his hold on me, but our stare only intensifies, cutting and deep. “Please, Brooklyn. Give me a chance.”

  Our eyes remain locked as I stand motionless, wishing I could. I want that more than anything. But how do you give someone your heart when they’re the reason it’s shattered into thousands of pieces?

  “Do you remember that party the night before you left for college?” I ask, needing him to understand exactly where I’m coming from, why I need to sever the chains he’s shackled around me.

  His expression softens and he nods, stepping back.

  “Do you remember what happened that night?”

  He nods again, swallowing hard as I slowly approach him. “You were about to take your top off in front of a group of complete pigs. I hauled you out of there before that could happen.”

  “Do you remember what happened after? Once we were outside?” I’m just inches away now. His chest heaves, his breathing increasing. There’s a charge between us, raw and unstable, just like our entire relationship has been.

  “I kissed you.”

  “That’s right.” I stop walking, my body a breath from his. He remains completely still, staring at me. I crane my head and his mouth lowers toward mine. “You were my first kiss, Drew.” My voice trembles as I utter those words. His breath intermingles with mine, the heat of his lips warming me. “You were supposed to be my first everything — my first kiss, my first sexual experience, my first love.”

  Regret swirls deep in his eyes, the unmasked pain more real than any emotion I’ve ever seen from Wes. “I fucked up. I know that. I’m sorry I missed out on those firsts. But please, Brooklyn…” His hand lands on my hip, gripping me like I’m a lifesaver, the only thing keeping him afloat. “Let me be your last.”

  I meet his eyes, wanting to agree, but I can’t forget the past. I can’t give him yet another chance, only for him to abandon me. “I can’t do that.” With haste, I pull away, spinning around and darting toward my car.

  “Brooklyn, please,” Drew begs, rushing after me.

  “No.” I face him once more, my eyes on fire. “No, Drew. You’re toxic to me. Did you know I waited for you the next day? I sat watching the street for hours, coming up with excuse after excuse as to why you weren’t there when you promised you would be. I did my hair. I put on makeup. I stared at my closet for what seemed like an eternity trying to pick out the perfect outfit so I’d look good for you. But you never came. You broke your promise to me. And that’s just the first time. There are so many others, Drew. So many…” I pull my lip between my teeth, shaking my head at how stupid I’d been. “Then when you told me you loved me that night after Carla asked for a divorce the first time, I thought this was it, this was the start of us. Now I know—”

  “If I knew—”

  I hold up my hand, silencing him, needing to get this out. “Now I know it was the end of us. I’ve just been in denial for the past several years.”

  I allow my words to ring in the air for a moment, our two bodies motionless, frozen in time, in space, as if nothing else exists but the truth I finally had the courage to set free. The truth that has been holding me prisoner for too long now.

  “Goodbye, Drew,” I say, then whirl around and duck into my car. He hurries after me, trying to stop me, but my keys are in the ignition, cranking it in one quick motion. I peel out of the driveway without a single look back…something I should have done years ago.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Drew

  “Brooklyn!” I shout as she speeds away without so much as a glance back at me. My lungs constrict, making it nearly impossible to breathe, my vision spotty.

  What do I do? What do I say? How do I even start to process this information? I stare into the distance, struggling to jump-start a memory that’s long forgotten. All I know is Brooklyn and I hooked up the night Carla asked for a divorce the first time, but I was too drunk to remember.

  I don’t drink much these days, not like I did when I was playing hockey. Once Carla left and I was responsible for taking care of Alyssa and Charlotte, my priorities changed. Getting drunk with my buddies was no longer important, particularly considering my doctor’s warnings about the detrimental effect alcohol has on someone like me, someone who’s suffered numerous severe brain injuries.

  Regardless, I clearly remember what happened the day after she served me with the first notice of dissolution. That was seven years ago. Has Brooklyn really been keeping this from me that long? I suppose I can’t fault her. I’ve been keeping my secret for even longer.

  I dig my fingers into my scalp, tugging at my hair, my stomach churning at what an asshole I am. How could I so easily take advantage of her, then have no memory of it? If it were anyone else, I’d question the veracity of the claim. But not Brooklyn. She has no motive to lie. She’s always been one of the most truthful people I know. She wouldn’t lie, especially about this.

  My mind overrun with questions, I spin around, dashing into the house in search of my wallet and keys. I need answers. I need an opportunity to make things right.

  “What’s going on?” Molly asks the second I storm into the kitchen.

  “I have to talk to her. Apologize for fu—” I stop myself short of swearing, my gaze shooting to my two little girls standing off to the side, their interests piqued at the sudden tension in the room.

  “Did you piss off Auntie Brook?” Alyssa asks, her hands on her hips.

  My eyes harden on her, doing my best to appear stern. “Watch your language, Lyss. We don’t say that. And no, I didn’t do anything to upset Auntie Brook.”

  “Bullshit,” Molly coughs, and I dart my eyes to her, glaring.

  “Girls,” Aunt Gigi interrupts, addressing my daughters. “Why don’t you go play in the den for a little while. It appears Auntie Molly needs to talk to your dad.”

  “Why can’t we stay?” Charlotte asks. “Are you going to swear?”

  “Your aunt Gigi doesn’t swear,” she responds, indignant, holding her head high.

  “No, but Auntie Molly says bad words all the time. Like shit.”

  Gigi’s eyes widen as she points a finger at Charlotte. “Don’t you ever say that word again. When I was a little girl, if I were to swear, your bisnonno would wash my mouth out with soap.”

  Molly stifles a laugh and I do the same, thankful for the levity, despite how short-lived it is. I should be just as furious to hear sweet, innocent little Charlotte swear, but I can’t help smiling at her adorable voice. I’ll take anything to relieve the tension and confusion growing inside me with each passing second.

  Gigi turns her attention on Molly. “And you!” Her eyes are on fire. “You know better than to swear in front of those girls. You should be teaching them by example!”

  Molly snorts out a laugh through her nose, unable to control herself.

  “Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!”

  “It kind of is,” she insists.

  Sighing in exasperation, Gigi pinches the bridge of her nose. “I can’t wait until you have that baby and realize how difficult it is to raise a child.”

  “I’m already prepared for all hell to break lose. I was a hellraiser.” She rubs her stomach. “I’m sure this little boy is going to give me a run for my money.”

  “One can only hope.”
<
br />   “Come on, girls,” Uncle Leo interrupts, scooting off the barstool. “Let’s go make spaghetti out of Play-Doh while we wait for the real spaghetti.” He grabs Charlotte’s hand, leading her away from us.

  Gigi begins to usher Alyssa along with her when I call out, “Wait, Gigi. Can you stay? I think…” I trail off. “I think you need to hear this.” Other than my father and Mr. Tanner, she’s the only other person who knows what happened before I left for college. She could offer the perspective I need to figure out this mess.

  She turns, a small smile building on her lips as she heads back toward me. “Of course, Andrew.”

  “Well, I’ll let you all have a minute,” Noah says, leaving Molly with a kiss. She clutches his hand as he brushes her shoulder, smiling at him. Then he walks away with Alyssa, joining Uncle Leo and Charlotte in the family room.

  Once we’re alone and free from curious ears, Molly leans toward me. “Is it true?”

  With a nod, I slump into one of the stools by the kitchen island and hang my head. “Brooklyn doesn’t lie. It’s not in her nature.” I lift my eyes, staring at Molly and Gigi. “It was the night Carla asked for a divorce the first time. But I can’t remember any of it. Well, nothing that matters anyway.”

  I’m not proud of it, but I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger, when I thought I was invincible, untouchable, that I could have anything and everything I wanted. Growing up, we didn’t have much money, so when I signed that first big contract and saw all those zeros, I went overboard. There was more than one occasion I woke up with a woman whose name I couldn’t remember, having no recollection of the night before or how she got there. It sickens me to think Brooklyn was another one of those girls. She doesn’t deserve that. None of the women I used and tossed aside do, but Brooklyn… She’s different. She deserves to be worshipped, adored, cherished, not used by a sleazeball like me.

  “She said she found you stumbling through the park in our old neighborhood,” Molly explains. “That after learning Carla wanted to leave, all you wanted was to go home. She thought you meant Dad’s house, but—”