Comfort of a Man (Arabesque)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  When her eyes landed on Isaiah’s crushed expression and the bundle of carnations at his side, her heart plummeted.

  Guilt blazed through Brooklyn as her gaze swung between the two men. It also took her a full minute to realize they were waiting for her to say something.

  “Evan just came over to talk…I’m sure this looks a little odd.” A smile fluttered weakly at her lips and she wasn’t sure whether she was helping or tossing gasoline onto a fire.

  “It’s a little odd,” Isaiah agreed and folded his arms in front of him as his gaze now swung to Evan. “We meet again.”

  Evan darkened, not bothering to mask his anger or jealousy.

  Both men held their posts, waiting for the other to make his exit. Brooklyn realized she’d have to ask one of them to leave.

  She turned toward Evan. “I’ll definitely give it some thought.” She glanced at Isaiah, and then back at her ex-husband. “I’ll call you.”

  Evan’s jaw hardened while his eyes resembled black steel. However, Brooklyn experienced a rush of relief when he just nodded and moved quietly out of the living room.

  With slumped shoulders, she deserted Isaiah and followed Evan to the door.

  When Evan crossed the threshold, he stopped and turned back toward Brooklyn. Gone was any evidence of his previous anger. “How serious is it between you two?”

  A residue of pain stained his question and she understood how much it cost his pride to ask.

  “You lost the right to ask a long time ago,” she answered in a low voice.

  His gaze met hers and she was surprised by its sparkling sheen. “I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me, didn’t I?”

  “The best thing that ever happened to us.” She pressed her lips together to prevent herself from saying more.

  He nodded and lowered his gaze before making his final plea. “Think it over, Brooklyn.” He turned and stalked off toward his car.

  She watched him, and then slowly closed the door.

  Emotionally exhausted, she walked back into the living room and glanced up at Isaiah.

  He said nothing as he studied her. Slowly, a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. He set the bundle of carnations down on a nearby end table, and then opened his arms.

  She went to him and buried herself against his chest. His embrace, his scent—he felt like home. This was where she belonged.

  Chapter 25

  Exactly seven nights later, two weeks since Isaiah and Brooklyn’s self-imposed torment, the sex-starved couple dove into bed at the stroke of midnight. Eager hands tore at each other’s clothes as hot lips raced to reclaim familiar territory.

  At times their fervor resulted in fumbles and awkward positions, which both handled with tolerance and laughter. Soon enough, their bodies found their rhythm and their passionate lovemaking elevated them to a plane that only existed in paradise.

  Hours later, while Brooklyn slept peacefully, Isaiah came to a decision. He smiled in the fading darkness, and then fell asleep next to the woman he loved.

  When he finally opened his eyes, sunlight flooded the room and the space beside him was empty. The clock next to the bed read ten o’clock and he was amazed he’d overslept. Brooklyn had undoubtedly left for work hours ago.

  A hot shower revived him before he made a quick breakfast of eggs and toast, and then rushed out with a clear destination in mind.

  Nancy, the sales associate at Opulence, remembered Isaiah from his tiara purchase and greeted him with a smile.

  “I’m looking for the perfect engagement ring,” he announced with a boastful smile.

  “Then you’ve come to the right place,” she said and escorted him to a private area. He had a clear image of what he wanted and Nancy listened intensely before she disappeared. When she returned with two associates and six trays of magnificent emerald-cut diamond rings, Isaiah felt like a kid in a toy store.

  The afternoon flew by as he studied and compared each ring through a 10x loupe. Through it all, Nancy exhibited the patience of Job, while he fussed over carat, cut, color, and clarity.

  Just when he thought all hope was lost, he found it: a ring that stole his breath and won an enormous smile from Nancy.

  “No woman could say no to that ring,” she said as he handed over his credit card.

  “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  Brooklyn didn’t go to work. Instead she spent the day driving around Atlanta visiting nostalgic places such as the church where she’d married Evan, Grady Hospital where Jaleel had been born, and even Emory Hospital, which had been Evan’s second home during the early years of their marriage.

  Wasn’t it just yesterday when Evan proposed in her parent’s kitchen or when Jaleel took his first steps? No. Yesterday was when Evan broke her heart and walked out on their eighteen-year marriage.

  But, when did she meet the tall, gray-eyed Isaiah who mended the shattered pieces? When did she let him into her life and, Lord, when did she start loving him?

  She watched the sunset over the sea of cars on the interstate. “I can’t do this again,” she whispered, though her words had no effect on her heart. “Why am I doing this again?”

  Evan’s woeful expression floated to the surface. He wanted her back. She gave a half laugh and shook her head. He put her through hell, popped up with an age-old excuse of “he didn’t know what had come over him,” and expected her to welcome him back with open arms.

  To add pressure, Evan had contacted her mother and made his plea known. Her parents, dismayed by their divorce, had renewed hope and were actively trying to put her family back together again. But her parents didn’t know about Isaiah.

  Attentive, beautiful, and caring Isaiah.

  Would he ever break her heart?

  Brooklyn grew frustrated trying to predict the future as she inched along the freeway. Dealing with questions on whether it was too soon to jump back into a relationship, or how Jaleel would react, elevated her headache to a full migraine.

  By the time she pulled into her driveway, she had forced her troubled thoughts into the background and concentrated on what to prepare for dinner. With the summer slowly drawing to a close, the remaining time she had with Isaiah should be special.

  A night on the town held some appeal but, frankly, she didn’t want to share him with the world. Tuesday night dance classes were enough.

  Once inside, she spent three hours preparing a special Italian dinner in between loading clothes in the washer before she rushed upstairs to get ready. Wonderful memories of her and Isaiah making love swirled inside her head and brought a smile to her face as she moved from room to room.

  In the shower, one thing certainly became clear: she didn’t just merely love Isaiah. She was in love with him. Her hands stilled on her body as she let the realization sink in, and then an incredulous laughter bubbled and echoed off the tile.

  Later that evening, Isaiah arrived at Brooklyn’s house dressed in gray khaki slacks and a loose gray pullover. His clothes selection had taken twice his normal time. To show up in his finest would pique Brooklyn’s curiosity, so he decided to keep it casual.

  He slid his hand into his pocket and fumbled with the jewelry box before he entered the house.

  Brooklyn descended the stairs like a breath of fresh air. Dressed in jeans and a red V-neck top, she made him feel as though he’d overdressed.

  “Don’t you look nice,” she complimented him as she walked up to him and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “I hope you’re hungry. I made dinner.”

  So much for the reservations he’d made. “Great,” he said and heard his own anxiousness in his voice.

  Her brows furrowed, but her smile remained sincere. “Are you all right?”

  He shrugged and tried to play it cool, but his acting skills were questionable at best. “So, what are we having?”

  Her suspicious expression lingered for a second longer, and then she, too, shrugged. “Veal Sorrentino.”

  “Mmm. It smells and sounds wond
erful.” He slid an arm around her waist and placed a kiss on top of her head. He’d propose after dinner, he decided, and another wave of nervousness washed over him. “When do we dig in?”

  “No time like the present.”

  The phone rang and Isaiah frowned when he felt Brooklyn tense. “Problem?”

  A strange smile fluttered to her lips. “Nah. I’ll answer it. Do you mind getting the plates and glasses down for me?”

  “Not at all.”

  Brooklyn headed to the living room while Isaiah went into the kitchen. The caller ID displayed her parents’ name and phone number, and her energy rushed from her body with a dramatic sigh.

  “Hello, Mom.” On the other end, her mother sounded quite the opposite: bubbly, vibrant. “Yes. I got your two messages,” she whispered and checked around to make sure Isaiah didn’t sneak up on her. “I can’t talk about this now. I have company.”

  Isaiah’s head jutted from around the corner. “Red or white wine?” he asked.

  “White,” she answered, and then focused her attention back on her mother. “No. I wasn’t talking to you. Yes. I have a date and no, it’s not with Evan.” Her mother’s sudden gasp and then silence put her on edge. “Can we just talk about this later?”

  Her mother bent her ear for a few more minutes, clearly unhappy about what she’d just learned. Brooklyn was finally successful in getting her off the phone.

  “Is everything all right?” Isaiah asked when she finally joined him in the dining room.

  “Never better,” she assured him with a fake smile.

  During the course of their meal, Brooklyn allowed the world outside her door to fade. All that mattered now was the man across from her.

  Isaiah hardly tasted his meal. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to work his proposal into the conversation. It was customary to propose on bended knee, that much he knew, but nothing else.

  He’d heard of proposals where the man slipped the ring into the woman’s wineglass, but he instantly had horrible images of the thing being swallowed and the evening ending with a trip to the emergency room—definitely not a good idea.

  “I rented a movie,” she said, standing from the table and collecting their plates.

  “Oh?” He stood and helped clear the table, while his thoughts circled around the weight in his pocket.

  “Hello. Anybody home?” Brooklyn waved a hand in front of his face.

  Embarrassed, he laughed. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Only that I won fifty million dollars in the Georgia lottery and I’m moving to Brazil.”

  “That’s great. How about we go into the living room? I’ll bring some more wine.”

  She laughed as she stared at him. “Something is definitely up with you.” She crossed her arms. “Out with it.”

  He tried to blink the confusion from his eyes. “What makes you say something’s wrong? I just wanted to just spend some quiet time with you.”

  Her expression remained the same. “Uh-huh.”

  He retreated farther into the kitchen and grabbed another bottle of wine. “All right. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

  “Is it serious?” she asked worriedly.

  This time his smile came easy. “I’d like to think so.” He moved closer and brushed another kiss against her forehead.

  Together they walked into the living room and settled on the sofa.

  Isaiah’s heart pounded hard in his rib cage as she looked up at him with anxious eyes. The space between them intensified and he was unable to recall any of the speech he’d practiced for the better part of the day.

  “Are you trying to tell me you’re going back to Texas?” she guessed.

  Isaiah’s heart melted at the sadness edging her eyes. Yet that same emotion gave him hope.

  “No. I’m not leaving. That’s something else I’ll have to address, but not now.”

  She exhaled and relief deflated her posture. “Then what is it?”

  The phone rang and they both groaned.

  Brooklyn started to get up.

  “Don’t answer it,” Isaiah said, wanting to get this moment over with before he had a heart attack.

  “I have to.” She patted his arm. “It might be Jaleel.” She stood and walked over to the phone by the door of the living room. “Hello.”

  Meanwhile, Isaiah dropped his head into the palm of his hand and closed his eyes as he mouthed the words “will you marry me” in a test run.

  “Oh, my God,” Brooklyn gasped.

  Isaiah jerked his head toward her as she fluttered a hand over her mouth. Instantly, he jumped to his feet.

  In the next second, tears slid from her eyes as she looked up at him and said, "Jaleel has been in an accident."

  Chapter 26

  Isaiah drove Brooklyn to Gwinnett Hospital. The trip passed in a blur as the sound of Evan’s horror-laden voice echoed incessantly in her head while a steady stream of tears poured from her eyes.

  “He bought him a Jet Ski,” she said, shaking her head.

  “He’s going to be all right.” Isaiah slid his free hand over to grasp her cold, clasped ones.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and clung to his declaration. The last time she’d spoken to her son had been two nights ago when he’d made his anger clear that she hadn’t accepted Evan back with open arms.

  She, too, had been angry and, once again, allowed her temper to get the best of her. The frustration of her family trying to force her back into a life she didn’t want made her lash out at the wrong person. Now, regret suffocated her.

  Opening her eyes, she turned and stared out her side window, but saw nothing.

  Isaiah glanced at her and took note of how she seemed to shrink before his eyes. They parked outside the emergency room, and then rushed inside together. In the waiting room, they found a devastated Evan slumped in a chair. “Evan?”

  He lifted his head, his features twisted into a mask of misery that humbled Isaiah.

  “Brooke?” Evan’s voice cracked beneath the weight of the world pressed against his shoulders.

  When Brooklyn moved from Isaiah’s possessive embrace and crossed over to the arms of her ex-husband, something tugged inside Isaiah.

  He moved to the nearest chair to avoid intruding on their privacy.

  “What are the doctors saying?” Brooklyn asked, her voice a replica of Evan’s.

  “Samuel hasn’t been out here. They’re still in the operating room.”

  “Have you been in?”

  “They won’t let me.” His bloodshot eyes held hers. “It’s bad, Brooke.”

  She closed her eyes and fought like hell to block the horrific images surfacing in her mind. “He’s going to be all right,” she reinforced, though the words lacked conviction.

  She reopened her eyes when Evan’s arms fell away. His gaze had now discovered Isaiah and she was ashamed to realize that she’d forgotten him.

  Evan said nothing as he refocused his attention on her and shoved his hands into his pockets. “This is all my fault.” His whispered confession just barely reached her ears.

  “What happened?”

  “I should’ve listened to you and never bought him that damn Jet Ski, but I was looking for ways for us to bond. Lord knows I don’t spend enough time with him. Even this summer the only thing we did was that two-week camping trip in June. Other than that, he spent more time with Macy than he did with me.” Brooklyn stiffened.

  Evan shook his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”

  She expelled a long breath. She didn’t want to fight. Fighting never solved their problems—no sense in believing now would be any different.

  “What happened?” she asked again, trying to keep her impatience at bay.

  “It was just a little after sunset, we were out on the lake, he was speeding…I kept telling him not to get too close to the boats and to practice courtesy on the water.”

  Evan was trying either to pacify her or shift blame. Sh
e was unsure of which, but she continued to wait for the full story.

  “Where were you during all of this?”

  “I was riding, too, but was quite a ways behind him.”

  The truth struck her. “Were you racing him?”

  Evan squeezed his eyes shut and she got her answer. “Th-then what happened?”

  “I don’t think he saw the boat. I know I don’t recall seeing it, but suddenly the boat was right on him.” Evan’s body trembled as his voice croaked. “He tried to turn, but it was too late.”

  Brooklyn turned away from him to wrestle with her grief as Evan relayed the extent of Jaleel’s injuries.

  For more than an hour, the three parties occupied three different sections of the waiting room. None of them wanted to trespass on the others’ space or impose on their thoughts.

  Brooklyn shattered the stalemate and sank in the chair next to Isaiah.

  His arm instantly draped around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  She drew comfort from his warmth and his underlying strength. He was her rock—that much was as clear as the air she breathed. Fresh tears trickled over her lashes, but by some strange miracle she didn’t collapse in the emotional whirlpool around her.

  Another hour passed and finally Dr. Samuel Aguilera made his first appearance in the waiting room; his expression was as somber as their own.

  Evan crossed the room to his colleague. Brooklyn and Isaiah closed in behind them.

  “Just give it to us straight,” Evan directed with bated breath.

  “He’s out of surgery and is being moved to ICU,” Samuel began gravely.

  Brooklyn squeezed Isaiah’s hand as a ripple of hope coursed through her.

  “He’s still in critical condition…and he’s in a coma.”

  Brooklyn slumped back against Isaiah.

  “Oh, my God,” Evan muttered.

  “When can we see him?” she asked.

  “Give us a few more minutes to get him situated, and then we’ll take you to his room.” He flashed them an uncertain smile and then vanished.

  Evan turned toward Brooklyn and for the second time that night, she abandoned the safety of Isaiah’s arms to embrace her ex-husband.