by Leigh, T. K.
Brooklyn
I can’t stop smiling as I drive back to my place in Medford. For the first time since Wes left for Dubai, I want him to come home, just so I can do what I should have done before he left. What I should have done months ago. This next week will be torture, especially now that I’ve been treated to a taste of Drew’s lips after too long, relished in the feel of his unshaven jaw scraping against my skin, lost myself in the sensation of his flesh against mine. It’s going to take every ounce of willpower I possess not to cross that final line.
Then again, this time will allow us to focus on other things. It will allow him the opportunity to focus on other things. Now that he has indisputable proof that Charlotte isn’t his daughter, he’ll need to devote his energy to ensuring this doesn’t adversely affect those girls. They’re both at an age where something like this can have long-term effects. He needs to make sure they get through this, never doubting the love he has for them.
The neighborhood is just coming to life as I step out of my car and make my way up to my front door. A few people are out walking their dogs, the occasional early morning jogger dashing along the streets, but the frenzy to beat rush hour traffic hasn’t hit yet.
“Is there a reason you’re just getting home after the sun’s already up?”
I jump, whirling around. “Mrs. Bradford,” I exhale, surprised to see Wes’ mother heading up the walkway toward me. She’s wearing a light blue dress, her hair impeccably groomed, makeup expertly applied, despite the early hour. I had no idea she was even in town. “What are you doing here?”
“Everything I can to ensure this wedding actually happens.” She narrows her eyes on me, her mouth a tight line.
“What do you mean?” I grit out a fabricated smile, pretending her presence doesn’t unsettle me. Running a hand through my dark hair, I bring it over one shoulder, hoping she won’t notice the redness on my neck from where Drew’s beard bruised me during our make-out session.
I had no intention of being unfaithful to Wes like that. I suppose no one really does. I truly didn’t want to kiss Drew until I’d broken things off with Wes. But he’s on the other side of the world right now. I can’t break off our engagement over the phone or via email. He deserves better than that. He deserves better than me kissing another man, too, but Drew was so pained, so lost. I couldn’t bear to see him hurting. I wanted him to feel something. Truth is, I wanted to feel something, too.
“Judy from the dress boutique has been trying to get in touch with you for a week now.”
I blink repeatedly, feigning ignorance at the reminder of the voice messages my dress consultant left on my cell. “She has?”
“Yes. Left several messages, informing you that your dress has come in and to arrange your first fitting. As I’m sure you’re aware, the wedding is three weeks from tomorrow.”
I do my best to keep my expression flat, not wanting to give anything away, like the fact that there will no longer be a wedding. Until I can talk to Wes in person, everyone needs to carry on as if there is, myself included.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Are you? You haven’t been acting like it. When I was engaged to James, I couldn’t wait. When my dress came in, I booked the first fitting appointment possible so I could see myself in the dress of my dreams. But you…” She’s contemplative as she scrutinizes me, her gaze hardened. If I were in her shoes and saw the woman marrying my son not get home until after six in the morning, I’d have my own misgivings, too. “You don’t seem excited about the prospect at all. In fact, the way you’ve been behaving makes it seem like this is more of a prison sentence than anything.”
“I’m excited about it,” I insist. “I’ve been busy. Just like Wes. He has a job he loves. As do I. Which I need to get to, so if you’ll excuse me—”
She’s in front of me before I can say another word, preventing me from continuing into my house. “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you, but your plans have changed. When Judy couldn’t reach you, she had no choice but to call me. I hopped on the first flight and assured her you’d be there for a fitting this morning.”
“But I have to work,” I protest.
“And I have a million and one things on my to-do list today…” She places her hands on her hips, her mouth down-turned, her eyes cold. “All of which I had to drop to ensure you made it to your fitting.” One side of her mouth turns up in a sneer as she leers at me with a sanctimonious look. “We’re all making sacrifices here, dear. It’s time you do the same.”
I bite my lower lip to stop myself from asking what sacrifice she’s ever made in her life. She wouldn’t know the meaning of the word if it was glaring at her in black and white. I wish I could end this charade right now. The thought of going to my dress fitting for a wedding that’s no longer happening seems wrong, but what choice do I have? Until Wes returns, I don’t have one.
“Fine,” I say with a huff. “I’ll take some personal time. When’s my appointment?”
“Nine.”
“Okay. I’ll be there. You didn’t need to fly all the way up here just to let me know about this. A simple phone call would have sufficed.” I push past Mrs. Bradford, unlock the door, and step into my house, turning around to close the door when she forces herself inside.
“Apparently not, or I wouldn’t have had to make the trip. I’ll wait here while you to get ready.”
I raise my brows. “You’re coming with me?”
“I certainly am. I need to make sure you show up this time.”
“When have I ever not shown up?” The instant the words leave my mouth, I snap my jaw shut, wishing I could take them back.
“I seem to remember one such instance you failed to show up, worrying my Weston, only to find out you spent the day with another man.”
She continues farther into my house, her nose wrinkling in disgust at her surroundings. It’s not that I’m not neat and orderly. My townhouse is spotless and decorated in a style I like. She doesn’t like it because it’s small. Her garage is probably double the size of my house.
“I told Wes he should have left you after that, but no.” She whirls around and faces me, the disdain she has for me clear in the way she regards me. Her posture is stiff, her stance wide, making her appear much more formidable than her five-foot, three-inch frame would normally allow. “He defended you, said it was his fault, a misunderstanding.” She shakes her head, fire in her eyes as she continues to belittle me. “I thought it the second he brought you home. And I still think it now. Weston is far too good for you.”
I inhale a deep breath, summoning all my strength not to break down into tears. Yesterday, I may have done just that. The feel of Drew’s love surrounding me, although he’s not physically here, gives me the strength and courage I’ve been missing for years.
I saunter up to Mrs. Bradford, holding my head high. She blinks, not used to this sort of confidence from me. “You know… You’re probably right. Nevertheless, he still wants to marry me. It must be eating you up that you haven’t been able to talk him out of it, out of marrying a girl from a blue-collar family. You can have all the etiquette classes and right upbringing possible. Those things can’t change the cold, heartless shrew you are.”
My response leaves her stunned as I head up the narrow stairs. When I step into my bedroom and close the door behind me, I blow out a breath. I take a minute, leaning against the door. As I attempt to collect myself, I laugh hysterically, never feeling so alive. I’m done doing what everyone expects of me, of putting everyone else’s needs before mine. It’s time for what Brooklyn wants.
And Brooklyn really wants Drew.
* * *
“Ms. Tanner,” Judy says as I walk into the boutique, Mrs. Bradford clutching onto my arm in a way that makes me think she’s worried I’ll run. I doubt she cares whether I even want to marry her son. All she wants is to plan the social event of the year. This has never been about the joining of two people in love. It’s about making her the center of
attention in her ridiculous little social circles. “So wonderful to see you.”
“You, too.” I grit a smile.
Judy glances nervously at Mrs. Bradford, then back at me, her expression momentarily falling before she plasters that fake smile back on her face. “Your dress is waiting in one of the changing rooms. If you’ll come with me…”
She turns on her heels and heads through the showroom. I follow her toward the same dressing room as last time. The instant we cross the threshold, memories of being here with Drew flood back. These comforting recollections help me through this ordeal when all I want to do is run away and never look back. Despite my strong distaste for Mrs. Bradford and the way she treats anyone she views as inferior, which is most of the human race, she raised a son with such a beautiful, caring soul. I owe it to him to get through today, to not let on that anything’s changed, not until he comes home and I can tell him the truth.
“Right in here.” Judy heads toward the private dressing room off to the side of the sitting area, gesturing for me to follow her. I leave Mrs. Bradford, thankful to be out of her judgmental eyes for a moment. “I’ll give you some privacy while I grab the seamstress.”
“Thank you.”
She studies me with analytical eyes. I wonder if she can see the truth, that this is just something I’m doing but have no plan to follow through with. Then her tight lips turn into a smile and she blows out a breath, almost like she’s relieved. I’m about to ask her about it when she spins, leaving me alone. I collect myself, brushing off Judy’s strange behavior. It’s probably nothing, just my over-analytical mind seeing things that aren’t real.
When I turn my attention to the dress, a smile tugs at my mouth. It truly is stunning, the dress I always dreamed I’d wear on my wedding day. When I saw it hanging on the rack all those weeks ago, I knew it wasn’t one of Mrs. Bradford’s approved dresses, knew Drew probably put the fear of God into poor Judy to find a dress I’d like. I was reticent to accept it at first, but deep down, I think I knew I’d never walk down the aisle to Wes wearing this dress. I’ve just been in denial for months.
I’m about to undress to get this over with so I can get to some of my appointments when my phone pings with an incoming text. Worried it might be work, I retrieve my cell from my bag, a smile lighting up my face when I see it’s from Drew.
I can’t stop thinking of your mouth.
Reeling in my grin, I type out a reply, my fingers flying over the screen.
I can’t stop thinking of your mouth, either. In addition to lots of other parts of your body, especially considering where I am right now.
And where’s that?
I hesitate, unsure how he’ll react. Then I remind myself he’s a reasonable person. He’ll know this changes nothing between us, that this is something I must do.
Getting fit for the wedding dress I’ll never wear. Mrs. Bradford was at my house when I got home this morning. My dress came in last week. Judy’s been trying to call me, but I never returned her calls. So she called Lydia.
I hit send, then shrug out of my top and pull my jeans down my legs so Mrs. Bradford doesn’t accuse me of being slow, as well. Removing the sleek dress from the hanger, I adjust my strapless bra, about to step into the dress when my phone pings. I reach for it, my heart falling when I see Drew’s response.
Oh.
I know him well enough to know he’s not too happy about this news. I could have lied to him, but we’ve both lied to each other so much, kept so many secrets from each other. We spoke of wiping the slate clean. We can’t do that by continuing on the same path.
I didn’t have a choice. Wes needs to be the first person who finds out. I can’t tell his mother the wedding’s off. You know how she can be.
Can you call me?
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me.
I’d love nothing more than to hear your voice, but Lydia’s out in the sitting area, waiting for me to walk out in my dress, which I’m sure she’ll have some rather choice words about. Just like she told me her son was much too good for me earlier this morning as she made herself at home at my place.
I put my phone on the chair, reaching behind and zipping up the dress the rest of the way. Judy was right. Now that it’s ordered in my size, it’s even more stunning than it was when she pinned and clipped it to my body. I hate to waste this gorgeous dress. Then again, I may not have to.
As I consider the thought, my phone chimes once more.
I’m going to call you. You don’t have to say a word. I want you to hear my voice.
I quickly click the sound off right before it buzzes. I hit answer, bringing it up to my ear, remaining silent.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Drew’s voice comes on the line, and I clutch the phone tighter, smiling. “And the way you look in that dress…” His tone becomes throaty. “I remember the first time I saw you in it. I’ve watched you date other men, watched you kiss other men, but I never felt the jealousy I did at that moment, when I thought how fucking lucky Wes was to stand at the end of the aisle and watch you walk up to him. Now, I hope that lucky bastard will be me someday. So no matter what that awful woman says, no matter how small she makes you feel, I want you to know something.”
“What’s that?” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I wanted to remain silent, but it’s impossible not to respond to Drew’s heartfelt words.
“That I love you. That I’ve loved you my entire life. That I’ll love you the rest of my life. I don’t care what you need to do to do right by Wes. I’ll still support you.”
I close my eyes, my chest expanding, my body too small to contain my full heart.
I love you, too, I mouth.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
I nod, not saying a word, holding my phone to my ear as if it’s the only thing that brings me comfort. In that moment it does. His words give me the strength to face Mrs. Bradford when the old me would have done everything to shrink into herself, would have allowed her to make me feel small, like I wasn’t good enough for her son.
When I emerge from the dressing room and walk to the 180-degree mirror where Judy’s standing with the seamstress, Lydia sneers. “I knew I should have insisted on going dress shopping with you.”
My expression momentarily falls, my usual personality briefly shining through. I take a moment, closing my eyes as I repeat Drew’s beautiful words in my mind. Straightening my spine, I create a cocoon of comfort around me, one strong enough that even Lydia’s hate-filled words can’t penetrate. Judy meets my gaze as I step onto the pedestal, silently asking if I’m okay. I smile at her. I can honestly say I am. Knowing I only need to put up with Wes’ mom for a few more days makes me no longer care about her opinion.
“What were you thinking?” she continues.
“That all the dresses you chose were hideous,” I quip.
She inhales a sharp breath, taken aback by my bold attitude. It’s something Molly would say, not me, which is probably why she’s surprised. “Hideous? Those were dresses every girl would love to wear on her wedding day.”
“That may be true, but they were wrong for me. You’ve forgotten whose wedding this is. It’s mine and Dr—” I stop myself short, every pair of eyes in the room zeroing in on me from the slip of my tongue.
“Wes’,” I say through the thick silence. “Mine and Wes’.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I swallow hard, pinching my lips together. “Of course I am.”
“So sure you almost said you were marrying that hockey friend of yours?”
I meet her eyes through the mirror, the seamstress busying herself by pinning the dress in places. Due to my ample chest, they had to order a dress several sizes larger so it would fit. It’s saggy around the waist, but once they take it in, it will fit perfectly. Although it doesn’t matter. I won’t actually be wearing it to a wedding anytime soon.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I insist, tryi
ng to avoid her glare, meeting Judy’s eyes, who looks upon me with compassion. “I’ve said this repeatedly. Drew is a friend. Like a brother, really. I’m marrying Wes.”
Mrs. Bradford crosses her arms over her chest, tapping her fingers on her skin. “Mmm-hmm.”
A week ago, I would have tried to prove myself worthy of her son’s love. I no longer need to do that. It’s like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Just like Gigi always says, “You’ll know you made the right decision when you feel stress leave your body.” As I beam at my reflection in the mirror, shrugging off Mrs. Bradford’s look of disgust, I know I’m on the right path.
Finally.
Chapter Fourteen
Drew
The atmosphere in the house is solemn as everyone arrives for family dinner, a marked contrast to the frivolity that fills this space on a typical Sunday. But this isn’t a typical Sunday, not with the news I need to share with Alyssa and Charlotte. There are no smiles and jokes, no tickle monster or games of hide-and-seek. Instead, the mood is somber. Aunt Gigi went so far as to dress in black. Even the girls have picked up on the tense environment. Their normal squeals of joy as they play with whatever new toy their auntie Molly spoiled them with this week seems lackluster, Alyssa’s nervous gaze darting to me every few seconds.
I try to pretend everything’s normal, that this is just another Sunday dinner, but I can’t stop watching my two girls, wondering how they’ll cope. Every time I think of it, a lump forms in my throat, the pain bordering on unbearable. Before I became a father, I considered myself to be a selfish individual. But the instant I looked into Alyssa’s brown eyes, everything changed. She changed me, made me want to be a better man, a man she’d be proud to call her dad. And I changed again the first time I held Charlotte. The first time her tiny little fist squeezed my finger. The first time she laughed. The first time she called me daddy. I can’t stomach the idea of never hearing her call me that again.
