Brooke

 

Locking up the studio, I hail a cab and climb in.  Every day since I walked out of Owen’s penthouse, I hope to open a cab door and see him getting in the other side. But considering it’s been a month, I’m doubtful at this point it will happen. Which just makes my broken heart hurt that much more.

He obviously went and handled Pete, because when I got the phone call of him apologizing to me and telling me my studio was safe, I knew Owen was behind it. It kills me knowing that even though I hurt him so badly, he still wanted to take care of that for me.

I’ve tried several times to get in touch with Owen, but my calls go straight to voicemail and my texts go unanswered. I don’t blame him, I lied. There is nothing worse. Actually there is...falling in love with the guy you lied to. How do you recover from that?

I reach into my purse for my phone and send Olivia a quick text telling her to be at my place in an hour. It’s girls night and we are going to get drunk, watch chick flicks, and apparently talk. She refused to let me keep myself locked away any longer, so it was either this or go out drinking. I’m not ready to go out.

Once I’m home, I take a quick shower and toss on some jeans and a T-shirt. Throwing my wet hair into a bun, I go sit on the couch. Picking up my phone I pull up Owen’s number. My finger hovers over it as I stare at his name. Ace. A tear runs down my face and I click my phone off. If he wanted to hear from me he’d have answered me by now. He’s moving on and it hurts so much.

A knock on the door has me jumping up. Even though I know it’s Olivia, a tiny part of me wonders if it could maybe be Owen. When I swing it open to Olivia’s smiling face, I try to force a grin.

“You look like shit. You could at least try to be a little happy to see me. That forced grin is hurting my eyes,” she says, pushing her way past me.

Her long blonde hair is up in a ponytail, she has no makeup on and is wearing sweat pants, but she still looks a hell of a lot better than I do.

“You wanted to do this,” I say, leaning against the counter.

Getting two glasses out of the cabinet, she places them on the counter. “Damn right I wanted to do this. You’ve been miserable and I’m here to help.” Pouring us some wine, she hands me a glass. “So, let’s get drunk and figure this out,” she says, raising her glass.

A few hours later we are pretty drunk. We’ve talked about everything, but Owen. Work, food, movies, friends, family...everything. But looking at her now with that smirk on her face, I think my time of avoiding it is just about up.

“What’s your plan?” she asks, looking up at me from her seated position on the floor.

“My plan is get drunk and go to bed,” I say, tossing back the rest of my wine.

She yanks the pillow I’m holding out of my grasp, and hits me with it. “Stop avoiding it. I’m here to help.”

Dropping my head back onto the couch, I sigh. “You can’t help. There’s nothing to do. I lied. There’s no recovering from that. Nothing I can say or do to fix it. So yeah, I’m avoiding it.”

“Do you want him back?”

Closing my eyes, I picture his handsome face. “More than anything,” I whisper.

“So stop laying around defeated and beaten down. You made this mess, you need to clean it up,” she says, resting her hand on my knee.

Looking down at her, I wipe my tears. “How?”

 

**

 

Opening my eyes, my head is pounding. “Ugh,” I moan, holding the pillow over my head.

Thinking back on last night, I start to remember what Olivia and I talked about. She told me I need to make this right. I need to show him how sorry I am, explain I never meant to hurt him. Trying to think of what I would want if he lied to me, I formulated a drunk plan. It may do absolutely nothing, but if I don’t try I’ll wonder forever.

Slowly getting out of bed, I go into the bathroom and swallow down some Ibuprofen. Hoping it kicks in soon, I go lay on the couch. I’m exhausted but my thoughts are consumed by Owen. The guilt is eating me alive, keeping me from sleeping. I try to remember when I fell in love with him, but I can’t. It crept up on me so slowly I didn’t even notice. Until it was too late. The night he walked out and my heart started to bleed, it was like the wind got knocked out of me. It became so clear that while I was so busy trying to figure out what to do, he snuck his way into my heart. I want that feeling back, but I need to earn it. I know that.

A few hours later, dressed in the same black dress that I wore to the bar when the plan was pillow talk, I step out of my apartment. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to try to correct everything. That includes changing this dress from being the one that started my lie, to the one that I wore when we started over. At least I hope so.

Getting into a cab, I tell him where to go and I look out the window. I think back to the night I tried to quit on Pete, how I saw that couple embracing on the street and felt a pang of jealousy. If Pete had just let me go, none of this would be happening and we’d be that couple. Closing my eyes briefly, I try to clear my mind the same way I do before I get on stage. I can’t do this if I’m caught up in wishing for what should have been. I need to focus on what could be.

When the cab drops me off my heart is pounding in my chest. I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. Everything is on the line here and if I can’t fix this now I’ll never be able to. So with more determination than I’ve ever had, I stand and wait. Twisting my hands together, I chew on my bottom lip. It’s the longest fifteen minutes of my life.

Owen comes into view and I want to fall to my knees. All my emotions crash over me and I need to use them to help me.

“Owen Thompson, I need you to stop and listen to me,” I say stepping out in front of him.

He stops, looking at me with wide eyes. I believe a part of him knows what’s going on. We’re in Central Park, right where his father proposed to his mother. It’s the middle of the day and I’m dressed like I’m ready for a night out.

“Don’t say anything, please just listen,” I say as I slowly get closer to him. “I messed up, no that’s an understatement, I fucked up. What I did is totally unforgivable, but here I am asking you to forgive me anyway.”

Running his hands through his hair, he looks around at the crowd of people starting to gather around us. “Brooke…” he starts.

Shaking my head, my curly hair bouncing around me, I hold up my hand. “No, please let me say what needs to be said.” I stand about a foot away from him and my body aches for his touch. Choking back the emotion I feel, I continue. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m not just saying the words Owen, I’m out here announcing them for everyone to hear.”

The loud chatter around us starts to disappear and it’s just us. My eyes lock onto his. “I never meant to hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you. I was scared and I let the fear win. But losing you, losing what we had together, that scares me even more. I didn’t do what I did to cause you any more pain. It kills me knowing what you’ve been through and knowing that I am now cause for more pain. I dance, it’s what I do. It’s where my heart has been my entire life. I love it, I strive to always do it. But I don’t want to dance with anyone, but you.” Taking two steps closer, I blink back the tears. “I miss you so much. I can’t breathe, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I’m sorry for everything. For lying, for hurting you, for taking away your trust. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to fix it, nothing. Please Owen, believe me.”

“Believe her man,” a huge burly guy yells.

“This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” I hear someone else say.

Tuning out the rest of the yelling, I focus on him. He hasn’t run yet and I’ve got his full attention so that’s something. Seeing the emotion on his face, I can’t stop a few tears from rolling down. Quickly wiping them, I step right up to him.

Reaching my hand out to the right, I grab the red rose from someone in the now very large crowd. Holding it out to him, he grins. “I don’t have much to give you, nothing but this rose, a promise and me. I promise to always be faithful, truthful, and a pain in your ass. You’re my Ace and I’m your blue eyes. I’ll never keep anything from you again.”

Placing my hand on his chest, causing us both to close our eyes from the contact, I take a breath. “My body aches for you, my thoughts are consumed with you, my heart bleeds for you. I know it will take time to trust me, but I promise you I’ll make it worth it. I’ll make you happy, Owen.” Looking out at the hushed crowd I see Olivia and she smiles. “I love you Owen Thompson and I’m here in front of all these people asking you to give me another chance.”

It’s probably a second, but standing there shaking with fear, it feels like an hour before he says anything. Wrapping an arm around me, he holds me close, lifting my chin to look at him. “I love you too Brooke Alexander and damn you for recreating this.” He looks around at the large crowd before searching my eyes. “It’s not going to be easy. You need to know that. I’m a stubborn man, but I also got a second chance. This relationship deserves one.”

We both grin and I crash my lips to his. The applause, hooting and cheering from the crowd make me smile against his mouth. But once I have his taste in my mouth, the smile disappears and I let out a soft moan.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead on mine. “I’ve missed you, blue eyes.”

“I’ve missed you more, Ace.”