Brody
It’s not the bright light streaming through my window that wakes me. It’s not even the pounding headache or the ache in the small of my back. It’s the feel of unfamiliar arms wrapped around me, the alien scent of the person who is currently sharing my bed.
I manage to open one eye, carefully turning my head so it doesn’t explode, to see long brown hair spread over my pillows. Hair that doesn’t belong to Brooke.
Oh God! What have I done?
I try to remember what happened last night but draw a blank. The guilt though, that’s instantaneous.
The arms tighten, trying to pull me deeper into the embrace.
“Brooke!”
I push back, leaping out of the bed as fast as possible, looking around my room to try and locate my clothes. I finally find my jeans at the bottom of my bed, underneath a purple pair of panties.
No. No. No.
I quickly pull on my jeans and a dirty t-shirt from my laundry basket. I need to find Brooke, I need to make this right. I leave my bedroom, just as the woman in my bed starts to stir, and run to Brooke’s room as fast as I can. Her bedroom door is slightly ajar. I push on it lightly and step into her room.
“Brooke? Sweetheart?” Her bed is unmade and there’s no sign of her. I check the en suite bathroom, then head to the kitchen, the study, and finally the living room. She’s not here. She’s gone.
What have I done?
“So. Are you at least going to offer me some coffee?” I look up to see a very smug looking Joely leaning against the door frame.
“What are you doing here, Joely? Why were you in my bed?”
“Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten me already? Some impression I made.”
I try to think back to last night. I remember going to the party, drinking, drinking some more, arguing with Joely, drinking more, kissing Joely, asking her back here…Shit.
“Did we…”
“Did we what?” she asks, one eyebrow raised.
“Did we…you know,” I say, gesturing between us.
“Did we have sex? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“Yes, we did.”
I let out a long groan and place my head in my hands. This can’t be happening.
“Gee. Thanks. Make a girl feel appreciated why dontcha.”
I can’t deal with Joely and her snarky attitude. I can’t believe that I slept with her, she was the last person on this planet I wanted in my bed. This is so fucked up.
“Tell me that we at least used protection?” I growl, walking to my room. Joely trots along behind me.
“Yeah. Why?” she asks.
“Because the last thing I want is to be tied to your skank ass for the next eighteen years,” I say, shoving her clothes into her arms. “Now get dressed and then get the hell out.”
“Awwww, come on, Brody. We could be so good together.” She purrs, reaching for my arm.
“This ends now, Joely. You’ve gotten what you wanted. I ended things with Brooke, and after last night, I’ve probably lost her forever. I’ll pay back the money I owe, but I will not be blackmailed by you anymore.”
“Just make sure you do, asshole,” she says as she hastily pulls her clothes on. “You know what’ll happen otherwise. You think it’s bad now? I’ll make your and your family’s lives one hundred times worse if I don’t get my money.” She walks over to where I’m standing, taking advantage of the fact that I’m rooted to the spot. “I’ll make sure everyone knows the McAllister family’s dirty secrets.” She leans forward and places a tiny kiss by my ear, then whispers, “Everyone.” She steps back, giving me an insincere smile before walking out of the room. “I want my money by the end of the month,” she yells back to me. It’s only when I hear the sound of the door slam that I start to breathe again. My legs give way and I find myself on the floor with my back against the wall.
How the hell did my life end up like this?
If I had to answer a few months back, I’d have said that I was on top of the world. I had everything that I’d wanted in life. Engaged to my beautiful childhood sweetheart—the love of my life—owned my own home, and my business was booming. That was all I needed. Or I thought I did.
Boring.
That’s what Cade said I’d become.
A boring old man.
My younger brother was out there living the dream. Adored by millions. More money than you could shake a stick at. He had a different girl in his bed each night. All because he wasn’t afraid to leave this shitty, little town.
What he said hit home. I’d never done anything that wasn’t expected of me. Suddenly, it felt like I was missing out on something. Life was passing me by and I hadn’t really experienced it. So, I did what I thought best. I ended it with Brooke and started to live the life of a single man. Only, my heart refused to believe that Brooke and I weren’t together any longer.
I tried going out. Tried talking to the women that flocked to me at the bars I went to. What I didn’t expect was the guilt I felt when I so much as looked at another woman, crippling guilt that made me stutter so much that whoever I was with would walk off in disgust. If I’m honest, none of the women I spoke to could hold a candle to Brooke.
Brooke. I should go find her and apologize for bringing Joely home. She didn’t deserve the level of disrespect that I showed her last night. There might be a small chance that she didn’t overhear anything, but knowing the way my luck has gone recently, she probably heard everything.
God, I miss her, and now I’ve probably lost her forever because I had sex with Joely Baxter of all people—just like my dear old dad and Cade did. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, does it?
Jesus. Everything is a fucking mess.
My Dad and Joely.
My asshole father and that bitch.
A stand-up pillar of the community, Alasdair ‘Dair’ McAllister had a fling with the town tramp, and now he’s a daddy again. I have, according to Joely, a half sister that was conceived around the time that Brooke’s parents were killed. While we were all mourning, my dad decided to fuck an eighteen-year-old girl and not use protection. I knew Joely had a kid. I knew that no one knew who the father was. The gossips in the town have spent years speculating who it was. Not once was my father’s name thrown into the ring…not one person in this town would think that my dad would do something like that. Not Dair McAllister. No, he wouldn’t cheat on his beautiful wife, Judy. No way, not him. Just goes to show that you don’t really know anyone.
I only found out a few weeks back about Kyan being my half sister. Joely had gotten into a snit over the payments my father was giving her. She thought by coming to see me at work and spilling hers and my dad’s sordid little secret that she would get what she wanted—more money.
I refused at first, but then she threatened to tell my mom. My sweet, gentle mom, who loves my father to the moon and beyond, and who would be destroyed if she ever found out that my dad hadn’t remained faithful to her.
That was enough to get my attention. I couldn’t care less what happened to my father anymore, but I couldn’t let her hurt my mom like that. So, I made a deal with her. I would pay her $2,000 each month, and for that she would remain silent. This worked out for a month or so, until Joely demanded more. She dropped the bomb on me that she’d not only slept with my father, she’d also slept with Cade around the same time—so the poor kid could be my dad’s or my brother’s.
Joely thought that the media would love that. Father and son fucking the same woman and she didn’t know who the father was. She didn’t want extra money this time…she wanted me. That’s where we are now—everyone has to think that we’re dating. I feel sick every time I have to call her baby.
By having sex with her, I’ve screwed things up big time. It’s legitimized our relationship in her eyes.
How sick is it that Joely’s fucked three guys in the same family and I get the short straw by trying to do the right thing.
The front door slams and I’m confronted with the consequences of my shitty decisions. I didn’t expect to feel so…so guilty.
Brooke stands before me—no makeup, hair at all different angles, face puffy and eyes red and raw from crying. She doesn’t just look upset, she looks devastated. It’s in this exact moment that I know that this woman is everything to me. She’s all I’ve ever wanted and needed.
I’m the stupidest motherfucker in the world because I didn’t see what was right before my eyes and now…now I’ve lost the best damn thing that ever happened to me. I should never have let Caden get to me.
“You okay?” It’s a dumb question to ask.
“No. I’m not.” She moves past me, toward our bedroom.
“Can we talk?”
“No, I don’t think we can.”
“Just let me explain, please?” I plead. Brooke’s body is turned away from me, she tilts her head to the ceiling, as though trying to summon up some strength.
“There’s nothing to explain, Brody. What you did last night is all the explanation that I need.”
“Can you at least look at me?” I ask gently.
“I don’t want to look at you right now. I don’t even know if I want to see you ever again.”
“But we live together.” Panic rises in my gut.
“I’ll move out. Then you can get on with your life like you want.”
“No, you don’t have to,” I say, scrubbing my hand over my face. “Look, I’m gonna be gone for three days; I’ve got that trade show out of state. You’ll have a few days without me and when I get back, we’ll talk. Really talk.”
“I doubt it’ll change anything, Brody.”
“Brooke, please…please just turn around.” I drop down to my knees, even this doesn’t persuade her to look at me. “I know I’ve fucked up, but at the very least, don’t throw away over twenty-five years of friendship.” I drop my head to my chest, sending up a silent prayer to anyone that’ll listen. “I don’t know what I’d do without my best friend, my love…without you.”
Brooke lets out a snort of derision. “You’ve been doing just fine the last few months and I’m sure you’ll be fine in the future. Nearly every woman in this town wants to warm your bed, so I doubt that you’ll have trouble in that area.”
Her voice is close, and I realize that she’s now standing directly in front of me. I look up to see that her arms are folded across her chest. There is no trace of the brokenness I saw earlier, only ice-cool disdain. I know every one of Brooke’s emotions. I know when she is happy, I know when she is sad, and I know every single emotion in between, but this? This is different. I’ve been on the receiving end of her anger but I’ve never seen this before. For the first time ever I don’t know what she’s thinking or how she’s feeling, and that scares the hell out of me.
“It wasn’t me, Brody,” she continues, “who threw away all our years of friendship. That one is all on you. Honestly? As your longtime ex…whatever, I want you to know that I think you’ve been a pretty lousy friend recently. I wouldn’t have treated my worst enemy the way you’ve treated me. You made our relationship toxic.”
“Give me a chance, please.” I’m begging now.
“Like you gave me? You get to treat me like crap and I’m supposed to go ‘Yeah that’s okay, keep kicking me while I’m down?’” She does the wrinkled nose thing, which means that she’s pissed. Shit. “You get to screw other women in my presence, hurting me, but that’s okay because you want to be my friend? No. Friends don’t do that to one another. They don’t keep shitting on them from great height and then expect everything to go back to the way it was. You don’t get to do that, Brody. You don’t get to break my heart and then expect me to welcome you back with open arms. Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” She stares at me awhile, then storms into her room, slamming the door behind her.
The next morning I leave to go to the trade show. I try to contact Brooke but she’s blocked my number. She won’t pick up the home phone and she removed me from all social media. I doubt that she’ll read the letter I left behind in the kitchen. I spend the entire three days thinking about her. I’m so consumed with those thoughts that the show is a major bust. It’s with a lot of relief when I start the journey home. I’m hoping that she’ll have cooled down by the time I get there, maybe she’ll be more willing to listen to me and I can start to repair the broken pieces of our relationship.
The house is in darkness by the time I arrive back. Not one single light is on to welcome me home. Brooke’s car is missing from the driveway, and I feel a pang of disappointment but figure that she’s probably working late, which will work in my favor.
I grab the overpriced flowers that I bought from the swanky store I stopped off at a few hours back. I also pick up the small box containing one of those fancy charm bracelets that she’s been dropping hints about for a while. I would have gotten us take-out from her favorite restaurant but they were closed, so I picked up the ingredients to make Brooke one of her favorite meals instead.
I’m juggling all this and my duffel bag when I spy Lola standing on her front porch staring at me.
“Hi, Lola,” I say, giving her a nod.
“Brody.” She acknowledges me, then walks back into her house.
Strange. Lola is normally much more talkative than that. Last time I came back from one of the shows, she kept me talking for so long that Brooke texted me to ask if she needed to file a missing person’s report. I shrug it off and turn the key in the lock.
“Hey, I’m back,” I call, with the tiniest of hope that Brooke’s home and that she left her car at work. I’m greeted by silence.
Something’s not right.
My body gives an involuntary shudder from the lack of warmth in the house. Maybe that’s it.
I walk through to the kitchen in darkness, not even bothering to turn the lights on, and place the flowers and food on the countertop. I haul my duffle bag onto my shoulder and head to my bedroom and dump it on the bed. I’ll unpack it later.
Heading back to the kitchen, I grab a beer from the ones I bought earlier and pad to the living room. I figure that Brooke won’t be home for a while yet, so I’ll watch TV then start dinner. When I turn the lights on, I see why I had that odd feeling.
All the photos of us have disappeared, only the empty frames remain. As I look closer, I can see that most of Brooke’s stuff is gone. Only a few bits remain, scattered here and there, as though she left in a hurry. The beer can drops from my hand, spilling its contents across the hardwood floor, but I ignore it, turning around and around in circles as the panic rises.
“BROOKE!” I scream as I’m jolted from my shock. “Brooke?” I try again, sprinting to our room, and shoving the door open so hard that it splinters as it hits the wall. The bed is stripped, the closet and drawers are open and empty. Everything that belonged to Brooke is gone. A quick check of the bathroom tells the same story.
“No.”
I walk back out into the bedroom, sitting heavily down on the bed as I look numbly around me. The room looks as cold and empty as I feel. I take my cell out of my back pocket and try Brooke’s number again.
“The number you have dialed has not been recognized.”
I try Hope’s cell but get the same message. Who else would know where Brooke has gone… Cade? No. Mom? She’s really pissed at me for splitting up with Brooke in the first place, and I doubt Brooke would have told her she was leaving. Not that Mom would give up Brooke’s location anyway. That would leave her asshole boss. He must know where she’s gone.
As I search through my contacts list so that I can make the call, a tiny flash of light from Brooke’s side of the bed catches my eye. Sitting on the nightstand, on top of an envelope baring my name, is her engagement ring. With a trembling hand, I pick up the ring and the letter. For safe keeping, I put the ring on the leather cord that I habitually wear around my neck, and turn my attention to the letter.
My hands are still shaking as I open it and read the words Brooke has written.
Brody,
By now you’ve probably worked out that I’ve gone. I’ve left my keys with Lola, please don’t ask her where I am, she’s sworn to secrecy, also it’s no longer any of your business. Don’t make her feel uncomfortable. So that you don’t worry, here’s a list of things you should know. I’ll lay it out in simple terms for you. (You don’t deserve this btw, but if it keeps you off my back…)
Location—I’m going somewhere safe. Don’t bother asking anyone in town where I’m going. I didn’t tell anyone other than Lola.
Work—I gave my two weeks’ notice, but was let go early as I had vacation time.
Ring—I didn’t think it was right to keep the ring, so please feel free to give it to the next poor sucker.
Don’t contact me, or Hope. We won’t answer. Ever.
Money—I’ve taken the money I put into the joint checking account. You have my personal account details, so I’d appreciate you sending me my share of the house. If you don’t, then you’ll be hearing from my attorney.
Photos—All the photos that I could find of us together have been destroyed. I didn’t see the point in keeping any. Same goes with any mementoes or things you’ve given me. I have no need for any of it.
Stuff I’ve left behind—If I’ve left any of my things behind, then please get rid of them. Send them to Goodwill or something.
That’s it, I think.
It’s sad that it’s come to this.
I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking for. I only wish you’d told me sooner how you felt. I wouldn’t have wasted the last few years of my life hoping for something that was never to be.
Have a nice life.
Brooke
As soon as I finish reading the letter, I crumple it up into a ball and hurl it across the room. I don’t stop there. The mattress gets overturned, as do the bedside tables, and curtains are ripped away from the window. By the time I’m finished, my house has been completely trashed. The bigger pieces of furniture and the items Brooke left behind have survived, but not much else.
My hands are bloody and torn, peppered with shards of glass from smashing the mirrors. I should probably go to the emergency room, but right now I don’t care. Instead, I drop to my knees, curl up in a tight ball, and do something that I haven’t done since I was a kid.
I cry.