Brisé

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “I think you’re the pretty one in your relationship, Pheebs, if you think it’s going to be easy.” Please, our dads did it in like five hours. I have this.

  After trying to nail the fourth step into the tree … I so don’t have this. I need power tools. I have been forbidden to touch the power tools. Mr. Nichols didn’t exactly say why, he just came out the back door and removed them from my hands and walked back inside, never speaking a word. Luckily, I have my dad’s saw that James knows how to work, and we had all the boards cut. I try again to hammer the board into the trunk of the tree, and I am exhausted. It’s getting dark, and I refuse to give up even if the blisters on my hands are begging me to. James has the floor installed and is working on the sides, Brett is supervising, and I’m trying to build the steps up to it.

  “Do you wish you would‘ve called someone to build it now?” Brett mocks.

  “Shut up,” I say through my teeth, his comment gave me a little extra fuel, and I got the nail to anchor in the tree. I wipe the sweat from my face and call up to James, “Let’s call it a night. We can finish tomorrow.” I’m defeated. I wanted this to be a symbolic gesture and instead it’s a colossal failure. It’s turning into what I actually made of our relationship, not what I wanted it to be.

  “Hey, chin up. Thought that counts.” Brett throws his arm around my shoulders. I angrily wipe the tear that escaped. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” I murmur. I push away from him and go home. I lock myself in my room, sulking like a toddler, and berate myself. I shower and give myself a pep talk hoping things go better tomorrow. I fall into a deep sleep, exhausted from my activities today.

  The next morning while pouring my coffee, I look out the kitchen window and notice the tree house is finished. I run outside and make my way up the ladder, only slipping on the boards I nailed. The others are sturdy. There is a note taped to the door, ‘NO GIRLS ALLOWED.’ What the hell happened here?

  “You breaking my rules, already?” Luke hollers from the ground.

  I scramble down, tumbling on the last boards. He catches me before I hit the ground, helping right me. “Did you do this?”

  “I did.” His smile tells me he’s proud, but it brings back my feelings of failure. “Hey, why the sad face?”

  “You told me to show you I was serious. I was doing that and you had to come in and fix my mistakes.”

  “I didn’t fix your mistakes. You’ll still break your neck on those first four boards.”

  “Not funny.” I feel so dejected. I don’t want to cry again, but I don’t know what else to do.

  “What’s wrong, Twinkle?” My heart rate speeds up when he calls me that; it rolls off his tongue so naturally.

  “I was trying to show you a new beginning. You tore down ours after I tore you apart. I get it. This was my grand gesture,” I wave towards the treehouse. “I was giving us a new foundation from our best memories.”

  He grabs my chin, “And I was just doing what I should do. Helping you, working together, and making sure that the foundation won’t crack.”

  “I feel like I failed.”

  “You didn’t. You gave me back a huge piece of what I was missing. Hope. You gave me hope. Don’t go building your playhouse, I don’t want our daughter playing in it one day and it come crashing down on her head,” he says over his shoulder before walking in his door. I stand with my mouth wide open, staring at where he just vacated, replaying the words in my head.

  “Pheebs, close your mouth,” Brett hollers from my door. I know his nosy ass just eavesdropped and heard everything. I don’t even care I am so damn happy right now. Time to step up my game.

  I send him love notes via Brett and James. I take it all the way back to elementary with the boxes included to check yes or no. He always laughs, and I feel it healing my soul. He always makes his own box with ‘maybe’ and checks it. I send over a note asking him to meet me for dinner in the treehouse. He just checked the ‘yes’ box, and I’m elated.

  I arrive early and place candles all over trying to make it romantic. We kind of skipped this part in our relationship, and I want it all with him. He looks disheveled when he sees me waiting on him, like he’s been running his fingers through his hair. He has no reason to be nervous. “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey,” as awkward as it may seem, it is perfectly natural for us. We both start laughing, the tension melting away.

  We both nibble on the food I prepared, feeling there’s something so much bigger going on. “I want to believe you, Phoebe.”

  “You can, Luke. I promise. Ask anything of me, and it’s yours.” He is quiet for a minute.

  Grabbing my hand, he says, “I bought a house in North Carolina. Leave with me right now. Run away with me tonight. Please, choose me.”

  “Yes to all of that. I choose you every time.” I’m not immature enough to believe this solves all of our problems, but when he takes my lips in his, gently sealing our mouths together, I know we have jumped the biggest hurdle, and we will make it. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth before letting him take over, pushing his tongue in my mouth, swirling and rubbing against mine.

  Chapter 25

  Luke

  She just chose me. Phoebe Wells just accepted the gauntlet I threw at her. She embraced that fucker, and now my lips are savoring hers. I feel at peace. After years of hoping, praying, and begging I’m finally granted solace. I can’t allow us to fuck it all up, but I can’t carry the burden all on my own. Right now, I can’t keep my lips off hers. I pull back, “Let’s go.”

  She stands and offers me her hand. I laugh, it comes from the deepest part of me, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop feeling this joy. I jump up, grab a hold of her and swing her around. “Are you sure that’s smart? James did build the floor of this.”

  “We’re on steady ground.” I mean more than the wooden planks underneath us.

  “Finally,” she whispers.

  “Forever.”

  I let her down long enough so she can climb down the stairs, and I’m right behind her. “Do I need to pack?”

  “No need. Hopefully we won’t be wearing clothes, but there are stores in North Carolina.” She grabs my hand leading me to the car. I believe she’s as eager as I am.

  She pauses right before I open the door, “Can I get my purse? I need money and my identification. Plus, I want to grab my toothbrush.” She’s extremely nervous, and I find it adorable.

  “Phoebe, go grab what you’re comfortable with. I need to let my parents know we’re taking off, and you need to let the bozos inside know.” Reaching up on her tiptoes she places a small kiss on my neck before running up to her house. “Five minutes, not a second longer.”

  “I’ll be done in three,” she calls back. Suddenly I’m hit with the gravity of the situation. I’m disappearing with her, taking her away from everything that is familiar and forging a new start. There’s no question in my mind that I’m all in, and I see in her eyes she’s right here with me, but what happens when something else scares her? I shake that thought from my mind. If I go in with doubts it will end before it starts. I hurry up and grab my stuff, telling my parents the new plan. My dad just nods, but my mom is beaming. “Come back whole, Lucas.”

  “I plan to,” I solemnly say to her. There is no other way. She’s waiting by my car when I emerge from the house. Fidgeting with her hair and looking all around, I feel the anticipation in the air. It isn’t all about sex, but we need to connect in that primal way. We need to expose ourselves at the inner layer and build a future. “Nervous?” I sneak up behind her.

  Turning her eyes to me, she responds, “Elated. Nervous. Scared. Happy. Pick one. I need to know something before I get in the car.” Oh God, is she backing out before we begin this journey? “Can you forgive me?”

  “Get in the car, Twinkle. We have all the time in the world to figure this out. I love you. That’ll have to be enough for now until we get to the house and can lay it all out there.”

  “Th
at’s enough.” Breathtaking. That’s what she is when she turns her eyes full of love and smiles. I kiss her forehead; tuck her in the car, and head to the driver’s side.

  I have a long four hours to think. Between chatting about what we did in our years apart, I’ve kept the conversation light. Neither of us did anything Earth shattering. I went to school and worked, besides I had written her all those letters. She fills me in with stories of her treatment, touring, and what dancing under the lights was really like for her.

  “I enjoyed it for all of five minutes. Dancing isn’t about being a star for me. I don’t know why I did it, why I felt it was so important. I know I went after it because I wanted my mom to be proud, but they would have been proud of me no matter what. It is grueling, Luke. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an honor to get to where I did, but it wasn’t what I wanted. The girls are bitchy, probably from lack of food; the hours are exhausting, and while it’s rewarding when you hear the audience’s praise or see the smile on their faces . . . it just becomes mundane. I want to see that smile on a child I teach. The moment when they get that pirouette they’ve worked for months on, or when they finally get the solo they auditioned for. That’s what it is for me.” Still my girl. I was worried she had changed at the core, but I shouldn’t have.

  Her question has been running around in my mind the entire drive. Forgiveness. Isn’t that the crux of most issues? We all want absolution. Mistakes we make in life are what make us who we are. They can either destroy us or teach us, and forgiveness can do the same. Were her decisions wrong all those years ago? I don’t know. Did they hurt me? Yes, but you don’t go through life without pain. It’s a risk in love and life. Were my decisions wrong? I don’t believe they were, but she did. Did I cause her pain? Yes, and I only hope she’s gotten past it. What does forgiveness really mean? If I say I forgive her, does she get to let go of all her guilt and move on? Not necessarily because it isn’t up to me to heal her. Just as it isn’t up to her to heal me. It’s up to us as a unit to build each other up and deal with things . . . together. I don’t think one person can absolve you of your transgressions. Even if she forgives me, or vice versa, will it change the way we look at the situation? No. Will it change the past and each one or our decisions? No. So what’s the point of forgiveness? I think selfishly it will make me feel better, but it won’t truly change anything. If she needs the words, I will gladly give them to her because she’s my world.

  Pulling up the driveway, I’m anxious for her reaction. I glance over and see her wringing her hands together, staring out the windshield. “What do you think?”

  “It looks gorgeous,” her voice is void and strained.

  “What is it?” If she isn’t comfortable here with me, I don’t want to push her.

  “This is rude, but how can you afford this?” It’s sobering that she has no clue what I’ve done for myself.

  “Let’s get inside and then we can talk.” She just nods and blindly follows me up the steps. I want her to love it as much as I do. I open the door for her and follow her in. She freezes in the entryway, and I hear her gasp in shock. I can’t help but smile, proud of how far I’ve come.

  “It’s beautiful, Luke. You can see the lake from every angle.” I drop the bags just inside the door and reach my arms around her, circling her waist, and pulling her back against me. She relaxes and sinks back against my chest with a deep sigh.

  “It’s perfect, right now with you here.”

  “Why’d you buy it?”

  “I needed a change. One with no bad memories . . . with no you. Now, I want to create memories here, with you. A fresh start.”

  She turns in my arms and embraces me. I feel her shivering in my arms, and I kiss the top of her head. “Relax, it’s just me. I would say, I’m your best friend no reason to be nervous, but you dethroned me from my title and gave it to Brett.” I’m teasing her . . . sort of.

  “You’re so much more. Best friend doesn’t encompass all that you are to me.”

  “Good answer,” I chuckle. I push her away gently and pull her to the living room. We need to get comfortable if we’re going to talk. “It’s late, I know. Do you want to put off talking until tomorrow?”

  “No. When I wake up tomorrow, I want no questions. I need this to be resolved, it’s killing me.” I nod at her. “Can you answer my question from earlier? Do you forgive me?”

  I take a deep breath. “If that’s what you need. I can say the words, but it isn’t up to me to forgive you. Yes, you left. You broke my heart, but who am I to say we would have worked anyway? Choices, Phoebe. We all have them. I hate we lost that time, and I was angry with you for so long. Blaming you for my misery, and wanting something from you that I didn’t feel you ever gave me. I wanted to be your choice. I forgive you, but I don’t have anything to forgive you for.” She has tears running down her face she makes no attempt to stop. I wipe them as quickly as they come.

  “I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve needed those words for years, but I don’t think I can say them to myself. You were always my choice, and I felt in some back-handed way I was protecting you from the mess I was.” Her emotions are fragile right now, but I need her to hear me.

  “You need to forgive yourself and stop feeling so guilty. We both suffered, maybe it was unnecessary, but I won’t regret anything that brought you back to me, ready for a future. So if you need me to tell you every day that I forgive you, then I will. But Phoebe, you have to forgive yourself. We can’t move on if you don’t.” She takes a shaky breath and launches herself in my lap. I hold her while her body is racked in sobs, my shirt is soaked from her tears, and I beg her to forgive herself. This is hard, the whole teardown before you build up. It means laying yourself bare.

  Once she calms down, I ask her. “Can you forgive me?” This next answer can seal our fate. I can’t look in her eyes, and my hands are shaking so badly. I want to flee the confines of this room while waiting for her answer.

  She grabs my hand, “Luke, I forgave you a long time ago. I choose you. I love you.” I let out the breath I’m holding and look into her eyes. I reach for her, settling her on my lap, wrapping my arms around her. I won’t ever let her go. I crash my lips on to hers. Each kiss we have ever shared is unique. This one is no different. It’s sweet, scorching, and a promise. It’s familiar, yet an exploration. Her tongue matches mine, yet lets me take control. She’s my oxygen and I hers. The heat from her mouth radiates into mine, and it seems like time has stopped. She pulls back, “Tell me, Luke. I need to hear it.”

  I capture her lips one last time before tilting her chin up, looking right into her eyes so there’s no doubt, “I love you, Phoebe Wells. Today. Tomorrow. Yesterday. You’re my heart, Twinkle.” Not waiting for a response I sink back down onto her mouth and lose myself again.

  We barely stop for a breath, when she starts squirming on my lap; I know it’s time to take this to the bedroom. I stand up, still holding her in my arms, and walk the short distance, “Are you sure?”

  “No doubt,” she utters as she takes my bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth before gently biting down. That jolt goes straight to my straining dick, and I growl. She repeats the motion, loving the reaction she’s getting from me. I stand her up by the bed and make quick work of her clothes. I need her naked, and I need her now. She fumbles with my clothes, and when we’re both stripped bare, our gazes wander. Traveling up and down each other’s body, learning and exploring the new curves and muscles.

  “God, you’re more beautiful than before. I love you.” I take her mouth again and push her back towards the bed. I follow her down and pull her body so her head is resting on the pillows. I kiss across her collarbone, my hand moving down to cup her breast. I watch her face the entire time; seeing the passion burning in her eyes fuels me. Gently pulling her nipples to peaks, I circle my tongue against them, back and forth with each one. My mouth working her tits, I snake my hand down between her legs. “You’re so wet for me.” She answers me with a moan,
shifting of her hips, trying to get my hand where she wants it. I slide one finger in while circling her clit in a figure eight motion.

  Working her up turns me to stone. I’m so hard it hurts, and I need to be inside her. Moving on top of her fully, I allow my weight to settle on top of her. I gently push in her making sure my pubic bone is hitting her clit on each stroke. Reaching down, I grab her hips, setting us in a rocking motion until we’re in rhythm. I stare into her eyes as she looks in mine. No words are spoken, but the love is overwhelming. Finding our release together, we both collapse and hold one another. I have never felt closer to her than in this moment.

  Chapter 26

  Phoebe

  The last week with Luke, secluded in his home, has been beyond magical. I’m so proud of what he’s done, how successful he’s become, and I remind him of it daily. I never want him to doubt how much he means to me. “Do we have to go home?” I whine.

  “Yes. Drake is being arraigned tomorrow, and you have responsibilities at the studio.” He keeps me grounded because if it was up to me I would forget about everything but us, here and now.

  “If you insist,” I tease him.

  “Hey, I’m all for making you a kept woman, right here in my bed.” He kisses me, and I wonder if I could chain him up. Swatting my ass, he tells me, “Get a move on, lazy bones.”

  I slowly get ready, dreading leaving our solitude to face real life. “What are your plans?” We haven’t talked about this.

  “For when?”

  “Are you moving here?”

  “Not without you. We can use this as often as we want, but my place is with you. You’re stuck with me.” Thank fuck.

  “So you’re moving in with me?”

  “Are Brett and James moving out?” I laugh at him.

  “They never moved in. Eventually, I think Brett will retire and move to help me with the studio, but right now he still loves New York. They just came down to save me from myself.”