by T. K. Leigh
Chapter 8
Brooklyn
I should be exhausted, should need toothpicks to keep my eyes open, but I’m wide awake, my brain on overdrive. Electricity courses through me as I reminisce about how perfect it was to watch the sunrise while enclosed in Drew’s familiar, soothing arms. It was romantic, spontaneous, and exactly what I needed.
I’ve known Drew most of my life, but the Drew I spent the morning with was different. It almost reminded me of the Drew I fell for during my high school days...before he became Andrew Brinks — hockey superstar and one of the most sought-after bachelors in professional sports. Maybe my Drew has finally come back.
As I sit at the desk in my office, my only thoughts that of having coffee with him again tomorrow morning, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, my happy demeanor diminishing when Wes’ face pops up. I vacillate between answering and ignoring his call. But as I stare into the image of his vibrant blue eyes, a pang of remorse finds me. I try to rationalize my early morning disappearance by saying Drew’s a friend, that it’s completely normal to meet a friend for coffee, but I know that’s not the case. Drew knows that’s not the case. I have a feeling Wes knows that’s not the case, too.
On a deep exhale, I press the answer button and bring the phone up to my ear. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he responds. There’s a brief pause before he continues. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” My tone is defensive, or maybe it seems that way because of the Catholic guilt plaguing me. The guilt isn’t severe enough for me to cancel my plan to see Drew tomorrow, though.
“You weren’t in bed when I got up. I missed waking up with you in my arms.” There’s a seductive quality to his voice.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I should put an end to this right now. The fact I’m considering that Wes may not be the right man for me should be the only clue I need that I’m on the wrong path. But can I be sure Drew is the right man for me after just one morning of him being the person I once thought him to be? If Drew weren’t in the picture, would I even be thinking this way? Most likely not. Drew’s only recently showed an interest. Who’s to say that will last? Can I throw away everything I’ve built with Wes because of one man’s promise when that man has a track record of breaking promise after promise?
This is one of the times I wish my mother were still alive. Based on the love she shared with my father, I know what she’d tell me to do.
Follow your heart, Brooklyn.
If only it were that easy.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy week,” I say before he can read too much into my absence from his bed in the pre-dawn hours. “I had to take some time off from work yesterday, so I’m behind on my caseload. And I have a hearing this afternoon for a TPR in one of my cases.”
“TPR?” he asks. “What’s that?”
“Termination of parental rights,” I respond dismissively. I don’t like talking about my work that much, especially with someone who will only pretend to sympathize with these kids. Wes doesn’t understand what they’re going through. He’s never gone to bed hungry, never had to go to school wearing clothes that didn’t fit because his parents neglected him. Never had to worry about his parents selling him into forced servitude, as happened in this case.
“Oh. Does that happen often?”
“More than I wish it did. I wish it didn’t happen at all, but there are certain circumstances that require it. And this case is one of those.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me, too.” I bite my lower lip, an awkward pause on the line as I wait to find out the reason for his call. It’s rare for him to call me. It’s not simply to hear my voice. Wes is sweet, but he wouldn’t do something like that. “Is there anything else? Because I need—”
“Why did you take some personal time yesterday?” he interrupts.
My spine instantly straightens, my breath catching. “What?”
“You said you had to miss work. Why? Did my mother send you on another wedding errand?”
“Thankfully, no,” I answer, my tone lightening. “If I have to look at one more cake topper I’m going to lose my mind.”
Wes laughs, deep and throaty. “I can only imagine. You should have seen her when we went to pick out vests for the tuxedos. I’m pretty certain the poor guy working there submitted his resignation after we left.”
I smile, relaxing into my chair at how effortless our conversation is. Shouldn’t I be uneasy discussing the preparations for our fast-approaching nuptials? I’m not. It doesn’t bother me, which only confuses me more. When I’m with Drew, he’s all I want. When I’m with Wes, I find solace in his commitment. Is that enough?
“So, yesterday?” he asks after a moment.
“Right...” I swallow hard. “Well, Drew paid me a visit.”
There’s a pause. I can only imagine what Wes is thinking, considering everything we’ve been through lately. “You took personal time to spend the day with Drew?”
“It’s not like that,” I insist, the hurt in his voice clear.
“Oh really?” His tone changes. It’s one he’s never used before, at least not with me. “Then tell me how it is, Brooklyn. Is that why you finally slept with me last night after denying me all week? Was it just a pity fuck to try to cleanse your conscience?”
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. His words hold some merit, but in a different way than he thinks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Wes.” I try to keep my voice low, the walls in this old building paper thin.
“Because you don’t talk to me. I feel like I’m constantly prying a stubborn jar open to get any information. Don’t you want to share your life with me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, that entails sharing your day with me, not going behind my back to see a man I know you have feelings for.”
“I don’t have feelings for Drew,” I respond, although my words aren’t as confident as I wish.
“Then why were you with him yesterday?”
“Because he needed me, Wes.”
“There are times I need you, too, but that doesn’t seem to have the same effect.”
I close my eyes, trying to draw strength to get through this without saying something I shouldn’t. “You’ve never needed me like this.”
“Like what?” he presses. “I understand he’s your friend, according to you, but it seems you’re always choosing him. Is that how it will always be?”
My mouth opens but refuses to form the words assuring him it won’t, that this was a special circumstance.
“It’s his ex.” I blow out a breath, avoiding Wes’ question. “She’s asking for a custody modification.”
“His ex?” His voice softens. “I didn’t think she was still in the picture.”
“She’s not. That’s why this is difficult. She left six years ago and granted him full custody. He hasn’t heard from her since...until a month ago when he saw her again.”
On a deep inhale, I do my best to recount everything that led up to the events of yesterday — running into Carla when he was with the girls, how she went to his office and asked to be a part of their lives, his reaction to her demand. Drew’s always been stubborn. Yes, he can be caring and compassionate, but if someone he loves is threatened, he won’t hesitate to fight for them. I witnessed that first-hand all those years ago when he treated Damian Murphy to a broken nose for touching me inappropriately.
Maybe if Drew handled Carla’s request with more empathy, she wouldn’t have felt the need to involve the court. That didn’t happen. Now we have to figure out which way is up, hopefully coming to a resolution.
“When Drew received her petition for custody modification, he didn’t know what else to do, so he came to me for help.”
“Why? You’re not a lawyer.”
“No, but I work in child services. I know which lawyers will fight for what’s in the best interest of the child and which are just going through the motions
to get in their billable hours.”
“He’s fighting it? Doesn’t she have a right to shared custody if they’re her kids? I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but can he expect to keep them from her?”
“That’s not the problem.”
“It’s not?”
I pause, a lump forming in my throat as I’m taken back to yesterday when I first read the pleading, Drew frantically begging for my help to figure this out. “Carla claims Charlotte isn’t his daughter and is seeking full custody.”
Stunned silence falls over the line. When Wes finally speaks again, his voice is no longer firm or angry. It exudes all the sympathy and compassion I’ve come to expect from him.
“Brooklyn, I... I don’t even know what to say. I know how much you love those girls.”
My chin quivers as I fight a new wave of tears. I’ve successfully kept them at bay all morning as I allowed myself a moment of happiness. But the worry about Charlotte being taken from Drew, from all of us, is back.
“That’s why I spent the day with Drew. Because he’s a friend,” I bite out harshly. “And as a friend, he needed me. I have a feeling once we get the paternity results, he’ll need me even more. I’m not going to abandon him. Not now, not when he may lose his little girl. He can’t lose me, too,” I add softly, my words surprising me.
“I’m such an ass,” Wes breathes. It doesn’t matter I can’t see him. I know him well enough to know his shoulders are slumped, his head hanging low as remorse fills him. “Is that why you were crying last night?”
“What?”
“Last night. When you went to take a shower, I heard you crying in the bathroom.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.” His voice is quiet, thoughtful. “I wanted to ask if you were all right, but you’ve been distant lately. I figured you might just need your space. Now I feel like an absolute prick. You needed to be comforted, yet here I am, accusing you of being unfaithful when I know that’s not who you are.”
I look at the ceiling, his words like the slash of a blade against my skin, each one cutting a little deeper, exposing me for who I truly am. If he only knew what’s been going through my mind, he’d be singing a different song. True, I haven’t been unfaithful, but I’ve been walking a dangerous tightrope these days. I like to think I won’t stray from the innocent touches I’ve shared with Drew. But are they innocent? Maybe to an outsider. Deep down, I know the truth. That as I sat enclosed in his arms this morning, I yearned for more.
“It’s okay. We’re both under a bit of stress.” I glance to the time on my computer screen and stand, using my shoulder to hold my phone up to my ear as I collect my things. “Listen, I need to get downtown.”
“Of course. I won’t keep you any longer. Will I see you tonight?”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “I’m really tired, Wes.”
“Then let me take care of you. We’ll order sushi and I’ll rub your feet.”
“I promised Molly I’d get together with her,” I lie, although now that I’ve said it, a girls’ night sounds like a fantastic idea. I haven’t seen her since Sunday when I told her I’d been in love with her brother for as long as I can remember.
“Oh.” I hate hearing the disappointment in his voice.
“I’m sorry...”
“Don’t be. I guess I’ve gotten used to seeing you every night. I like coming home from work knowing you’d be there.”
“And you’ll have years of doing that,” I remind him, hoping he doesn’t pick up on my uncertainty. For the first time, I begin to doubt whether there will be a wedding next month. “I just need some time with my best friend. It’ll be good for both of us. You can work as late as you want while I spend some time with Molly.”
“Okay,” he sighs. “I don’t like the idea of falling asleep without you, but I get it. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” I say through the thickness in my throat, his sincerity making me feel inadequate. “I really do need to go.”
“Sure. I’ll text you later. I love you.”
Swallowing hard, I struggle to repeat those words back to him. It’s never been a problem before, even if I didn’t feel as though I loved him. Everything’s shifted, but it’s still too early to tell if it’s for the better.
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 9
Brooklyn
Molly’s house is quiet when I let myself in later that evening. The lack of sleep over the past few days is starting to catch up to me, but I need a night with my friend to figure things out.
The instant I step into the kitchen, Molly rounds the corner from the den, her eyes filled with a myriad of emotions. I expect her to hound me for information about what’s going on between Drew and me, assuming he told her we spent yesterday together, but she doesn’t. Instead, she heads toward me and wraps her arms around me tightly.
“I’m so happy you’re here.” Her voice catches. “I was worried we wouldn’t be friends anymore.”
“Oh, Molly.” I return her hug, rubbing her back. “We’ll always be friends. Nothing will come between that.” I pull back and meet her eyes.
I’ve been so wrapped up in my indecision regarding Drew and Wes, I never stopped to consider Molly. She reached out to me several times this week, yet I didn’t respond to any of her calls or texts. I assumed she’d want to talk about Drew. Never did I think she was worried about our friendship.
“Promise,” I add.
“Pinky swear?” She lifts her pinky, just like we used to during our adolescence when we’d agree not to go after the same boy. It was never a difficult thing to ask of me. Her brother was the only boy who interested me.
“Pinky swear.” I hook my pinky with hers, giving her a reassuring smile.
Our fingers remain linked for several moments before she releases her hold on me. “Come on. There are drinks and food in the den. Your text came at the perfect time. Noah’s on call, so he’s sleeping at the facility tonight.”
She heads into the den and I follow, sitting on the couch beside her, pouring a glass of wine from the bottle of cabernet she’d opened. I sip on the liquid as I try to figure out what to say. Earlier, I would have loved to have a mother to discuss what was going on. All throughout my life, Molly was the only person I could talk to about everything... Well, almost everything. I never talked to her about Drew. During our younger years, it was because I didn’t want her to tease me. Now that we’re adults, I’m worried I won’t get the neutral opinion I crave when faced with a life-altering decision.
“I really am sorry, Brook.” Molly’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
I snap my eyes to hers. Just over her shoulder, I spy a framed photo on the side table. The same photo of Drew, Molly, and me as kids that sits on my coffee table. I wonder if this is another instance of the universe reminding me of how deep and profound my history with Andrew Brinks is, that I shouldn’t throw it away because of a mistake he made when he was eighteen. I’ve made my fair share of mistakes, too. Would I want someone to hold a grudge against me for years because of those?
“What are you sorry about?”
“Everything.” She shakes her head, taking a moment to compose her thoughts. “I always knew there was a connection between you and Drew, but never in a million years...” She trails off, her lip quivering as her emotions overtake her once more. “If I had known, I never would have teased you about dating him all these years.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. But now...” I pause, considering the situation. For so long, I’d made it my mission to keep the past a secret. I refused to let all the heartache Drew caused define me. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. “I’m glad you do.” Our eyes lock so she can see the truth in my words, then I take a long sip of my wine.
“He’s an idiot, if you ask me,” Molly states. “The doctors warned him about potential memory complications from the number of concussions he’s suffered. He knew alcohol would only impair his memory even more
. They told him not to drink like that. I’m sorry you’re the one who had to suffer because of his stupidity.”
I swallow hard. I’ve had a lot of time to think lately. As angry as I want to be at Drew, I can’t blame him, not when I hold some of the blame, too. “I could have told him the truth.”
Molly regards me thoughtfully, her eyes pensive as she considers my words. “No, you couldn’t,” she says finally.
“Wha—”
“I know you, Brooklyn. One of the many things I love about you is that you are my polar opposite. That’s why we’ve always gotten along so well, why we’ve stayed friends our entire lives when other people have grown apart. Not us. And because we’ve been inseparable the past three decades of our lives, I know things about you most people never would...even Drew. If I were in your shoes, you know damn well I would have told the prick exactly what happened. In explicit detail. Hell, I probably would have embellished a little and added sound effects for good measure.” She waggles her eyebrows, smiling mischievously. My laughter fills the space and I’m thankful for the break in tension.
“But that’s not who you are.” Her voice turns sincere as my smile fades. “Your entire life, you’ve put other people’s needs ahead of your own. So when you overheard Drew talking to Carla, you figured you had only one option. It didn’t matter what you wanted. As much as it pained you, you did what you thought was best for Alyssa and the baby on the way. It’s what you’ve been trained to do in your line of work.”
I hang my head, biting my lip, nodding.
“When are you going to start doing what’s best for you, Brooklyn?”
Her question hits me hard, almost knocking the breath out of me. I shoot my eyes to her, blinking repeatedly. “What do you mean?”
“I understand why you feel your relationship with Wes is the right thing. I get it. He’s dependable, committed, devoted to you. Even better, he’s never hurt you.”
I raise my wine glass to my lips to hide my quivering chin. It takes everything I have to keep from breaking down, from sobbing into her chest and telling her how much I want Drew but the past is holding me back.
