Brooklyn

I blink open my eyes, staring around the bright room, momentarily disoriented by the strange surroundings until memories of yesterday trickle back… Waking up in Drew’s arms. Thinking everything would finally work out between us. Michelle’s warning as I left to meet Drew at the beach. Drew never showing up. Seeing him at the Celtics game with Skylar. Hearing a noise and staring into Marcus Plummer’s dark eyes before he smashed my head against my car door.

I lift my arm and rub my temple, feeling the bandage, proof that last night did happen, that it wasn’t just a nightmare and I’d wake up in Drew’s arms. But that’s no longer a possibility. I prop myself up, the pain from the bruising and scratches on my back not as overpowering as when I first regained consciousness.

After Drew forced his way into my hospital room, all I wanted to do was go home and pretend the last week never happened, but the doctor wouldn’t allow it. Concerned about the severity of the concussion I’d received, he refused to discharge me, keeping me under observation overnight. I’ve insisted I’m fine, that the dizziness, inability to stand, and bouts of nausea rolling over me are the result of having my trust betrayed yet again. But they won’t listen. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. There’s nothing waiting for me at home. Only memories of the one man who’s done nothing but hurt me and the one man who will do anything for me…the one I betrayed.

I almost expected Molly to force her way into my hospital room, much like her brother did. But she didn’t. The only people who seem concerned about my wellbeing have been my father and his girlfriend, Ana. I’m not sure how to process the fact that my own best friend hasn’t come to visit. Then again, it shouldn’t surprise me. When I started this thing with Drew, I knew it carried certain risks. Now I’m not only forced to bid farewell to my adolescent dream of marrying my best friend’s brother, I’ve also lost my best friend.

My mouth parched from the dry air in this place, I grab the water on the side table. As I take a sip, my door opens, a familiar, tall figure standing in the doorway, out of breath, eyes wide with worry.

“Oh, Jesus…” Wes rushes toward me, kneeling on the floor next to my bed. He takes my hand in his, peppering kisses along my knuckles. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Wes,” I say through a scratchy throat, trying to get his attention. The sympathy and compassion he has for me is too much. I don’t deserve it. Not after how quickly I sought out the arms of another man when the wheels of his plane hadn’t yet left the ground.

“I’m going to talk to the prosecutor’s office and make sure that bastard gets the maximum sentence. Is what your dad told me true? That the guy’s connected to one of the cases where you recommended a termination of parental rights? That he’s involved in trafficking women and children?”

I subtly nod.

Wes brings himself to his feet, pacing, running his hands through his hair. He looks weary, exhausted. His jaw is scruffy from not shaving, his clothes disheveled and crumpled. He probably came straight here after landing. He wasn’t supposed to leave Dubai for another few days. No man I’ve ever dated would get on a plane and fly over twelve hours just to see me, make sure I’m okay. It makes my stomach sour even more over what I’ve done.

Feeling like I’m about to be sick, I reach for the bucket the nurses left by my side for just such an occasion and retch into it. Wes is beside me instantly, rubbing my back. It only makes the pain worse. Noticing my discomfort, he removes his hand as I place the bucket on the floor. Without saying a word, his gaze shifts to my back. I don’t stop him when he raises my hospital gown so he can see what caused me so much agony. When his eyes fall on the bruising and cuts marring my skin, he chokes out a sob.

“You’re not going back to work. Not after this.”

“Wes…,” I say.

“Shh…” He presses a finger against my lips, silencing me. “Let me take care of you.”

“Wes,” I protest again. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He pulls back, peering at me. He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. All that does is that you’re okay.” He brings his lips to the bandage covering the stitches on my forehead, kissing me sweetly. “Rest, my sweet, sweet Brooklyn.” He brushes my greasy hair behind my ear, the gesture soothing, comforting, relaxing. “We’ll talk later. No matter what it is, I love you. No matter what.”

Tears spill over my eyelids, his tenderness like a punch in my gut. Mrs. Bradford was right. This man is too good for someone like me.

Wes helps me up the front steps of his house, one hand on the small of my back, the other clutching my arm. I don’t deserve all the attention he’s doting on me. Hell, I barely even remember agreeing to come home with him. He and my father didn’t think it wise I return to my house. Somehow, that translated to me staying with Wes. I suppose that’s the obvious choice from an outsider’s perspective.

There were so many times I opened my mouth, about to tell him everything, but my father constantly stood over his shoulder, eyeing me with suspicion and disapproval, an unspoken warning to stay quiet, making me think he knew about my indiscretions.

If he figured out the truth of what’s been going on between Drew and me, I can only imagine what he thinks of me, how disappointed he must be. I’ve lived my entire life doing everything to meet my father’s high expectations. That’s why I applied for the doctoral program I’m about to begin. I never wanted to take my education that far. I’m happy just working as a therapist. But I made the mistake of mentioning the next step professionally would be to get my PhD, then MD in Clinical Psychology. The next thing I knew, he started shoving brochures at me for programs in the area.

“Just rest in here,” Wes soothes as he leads me into the den, the only room of the house that doesn’t feel like it was designed to be featured in an architectural magazine, although it’s still a breathtaking space. He helps lower me to the plush leather couch, grabbing a blanket and draping it over my body. “Do you want some tea? Sushi? Anything? You name it and it’s yours.”

I hate the benevolence he’s bestowing upon me. I don’t deserve a single breath of it. “Wes, please,” I beg.

“I know. You must be exhausted.”

“It’s not that.” My voice lacks the life it once exuded.

I always thought the idea of feeling dead inside was an exaggeration. I was wrong because that’s exactly how I feel now. Like my heart no longer beats. Like my lungs no longer breathe. Like my brain no longer fires. I’m lifeless. Heartless. Soulless. Simply going through the motions, doing what I’m told.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Just rest,” he replies, continuing to fuss with the pillows behind me, ignoring my pleas.

“Wes.” I clutch his forearm and he finally looks at me. Something about the way he regards me leads me to believe he knows exactly what I’m about to tell him.

With a defeated sigh, he sits on the bit of free space beside me on the couch, his fingers brushing back a few tendrils of my hair. “What is it?”

I meet his eyes, searching for the right words. I don’t know how to put what I need to tell him delicately, how to admit the truth without destroying him.

“Is this about Drew?” he asks when I remain silent.

I blink repeatedly. “You…know?”

He nods, resigned. “I figured it out. I mean, I hoped I was wrong, but after the way we left things before I went to Dubai, then your father telling me you were at Revere Beach when you were attacked… There’s only one reason you’d be there. Or, I guess, one person.”

I close my eyes, a lone tear trickling down my cheek at how much I hurt Wes, and for what? Because I fell for the lies peddled by a man who’s only hurt me? Because I honestly thought he cared? Because I thought he changed? Instead, he was just desperate, scared of losing his daughters. So he latched onto the first compassionate person he crossed paths with — me.

Feeling like more of an intruder in this place than ever, I abruptly stand. I lean my hand on the side table to steady myself, warding off a bout of dizziness that envelopes me. “I’ll call my dad to come get me. You’ve already done more than enough.”

Regaining my balance, I head toward the dining area and find my purse, rummaging through it for my phone. Just as I’m about to grab it, I spot the black velvet box containing my engagement ring, in the exact spot it’s been since I took off my ring for work over a week ago.

My fingers wrap around it and I remove it from my purse, facing Wes, who stands a few feet away from me. The heartache I’ve caused him is visible in the way he watches me, his expression pleading with me not to do what I’m about to.

“Here…” I extend my hand.

He keeps his forlorn gaze trained on mine as he slowly reaches for the box, almost reluctant to take it. His posture stooped, he cracks the lid, staring at the ring that once held so much promise.

“I’ll just wait outside.” My tone is flat. I wish I could cry, wish I could feel something, but I don’t. “I’m the last person you want to see right now.” I turn from him, reaching for the doorknob, when his voice stops me.

“Did you fuck him?”

I pause for a moment, glancing back. “No.” A part of me thinks I should just leave it at that. It doesn’t matter now anyway. After everything he’s done for me, after everything I’ve put him through, the least I can do is answer his questions honestly. “We kissed. A lot. The night before the attack, I stayed at his place. But we never slept together.” I rub my hands along my arms, warming myself from the sudden chill enveloping me. “I’d hoped he changed, hoped he was a different man than the last time.”

“The last time?” Wes steps toward me, concern I don’t deserve in his expression.

“This isn’t the first time Drew made a promise he had no intention of keeping. It’s taken me almost twenty years, but I’ve finally learned my lesson. I’m just sorry you had to get hurt in the process.”

I hold his gaze for another moment, hating myself for doing this to him, for being the reason his shoulders are drooped, his eyes are watering, his chin is trembling. I knew this would happen when he learned the truth, but that didn’t stop me, even though it should have. Hell, the fact that I hadn’t broken things off should have stopped me.

“I truly am sorry. Goodbye, Wes.” I face forward again.

“I’m sorry, too, Brooklyn,” he says as I’m about to step through the doorway.

I turn around, furrowing my brow. “You’re sorry? What are you sorry for?”

He slowly makes his way toward me, remorse covering his face. “This is all my fault.”

“Don’t…,” I begin, but he holds up his hand, cutting me off.

“The signs were there, but I refused to acknowledge them.” His lips pinch together as he shakes his head. “I’ve been so preoccupied with doing everything in my power to convince my father the company will be in good hands with me, even up here in Boston, I stopped paying attention to you.” He closes the distance between us, his voice softening, becoming more serene. Holding my hands in his, he runs his thumb over my knuckles, the gesture soothing, wrapping me in comfort.

“I took you for granted, assumed you’d always be there. I kept promising you things would get better, that once we were past this wedding, I’d be around more. I felt you slipping away, but I still didn’t do anything to catch you when you started spiraling downward. I put my career first when all along you’ve been begging me to put you first. I asked you to be a part of my family, said I’d make you a priority in my life, but I never did.”

I pull my hands from his, sick that he’s trying to shoulder even an ounce of the blame. “I could have walked away. I knew it was wrong, yet I continued on. I won’t let you take responsibility for this.”

“Do you regret it?”

I don’t even have to stop to contemplate his question, the answer clearer than anything in recent memory. “With every fiber of my being. And I will have to live with this mistake for the rest of my life. You deserve someone who will give you the devotion I wasn’t willing to until it was too late. I truly hope you’ll find someone like that.”

I turn to leave once more, but Wes grabs my arm, preventing me from taking another step. “What if I already have?”

“What do you mean?”

He exhales a breath, clutching both of my biceps. “What if I’ve already found the person who gives me all the devotion I need, but she’s lived her entire life thinking she’s not good enough?”

“Wes…,” I caution, shaking my head.

“It’s true. Over the past several months, you’ve tried repeatedly to get me to pay attention to you. All the times you called, asking me to meet you for a coffee since you had an appointment in the area. All the times you rearranged your schedule just to make my mother happy with all this wedding planning.” He erases the last bit of distance between us, looping an arm around my back and gently pulling me against him. His voice grows softer, more endearing, more compassionate. “All the times you went to bed alone in my house because I was too preoccupied to give you the attention you gave me.”

“That’s not the same thing.” I try to push away, but his hold on me remains firm.

“We both broke our promises to each other.”

“You were working. I don’t have that excuse. I don’t have any excuse. I—”

Before I can say another word, Wes’ mouth is on mine. Unsure what to do, I stiffen. I expected Wes would never want to see me again after I told him I’d been fooling around with Drew. I certainly didn’t expect him to shoulder the blame of my indiscretions on himself, to be so compassionate…to be kissing me. It’s tender, sweet, familiar, like coming home after being gone for months

“I forgive you,” he murmurs against my lips. “Now, I’m begging you to forgive me.”

I reel back, speechless by this turn of events. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Yes, I have.” He grips my cheeks, his voice intense. “Nothing you say will convince me otherwise. I can stand here and pretend to be hurt, and maybe I am a little, but I can’t pretend I’ve been good to you, because I haven’t. Maybe this was the wake-up call I needed to see what I would lose if I didn’t learn to balance my career with my family. So if you’ll still have me…” He releases his hold on me and pulls the ring box out of his pocket, opening it. “I’d like to be your family. And I’d like you to be mine.”

I shake my head, having difficulty processing how Wes could be so even-tempered about this situation. “Wes, I—”

“We don’t have to get married right away. Like I said before I left, maybe rushing things wasn’t the best idea. I was so excited for you be my wife, I wanted it to happen as soon as possible.” He pauses, his lips curving into a smile. “And I kind of liked the idea of your doctoral diploma saying Brooklyn Rose Bradford. But if you’d feel more comfortable with a long engagement, I’m happy to give that to you, too. I’ll give you anything you need. Just… Let’s go back to the start.”

Those words knock the air out of me, leaving me stunned, mute, breathless. Just a few words and I’m transported back to my teenage years, to the most popular guy in school begging me to give him a second chance, one I never should have given him. No matter how many times a snake sheds its skin, it will always be a snake.

I remain lost in my past, wishing I’d chosen a different path. Wishing I never got into Drew’s car that night he rolled up as I walked home from the movie theater. Wishing I never went to Brody Carmichael’s party at the end of that summer. Wishing I never heard the name Andrew Brinks.

The warmth of Wes’ lips on mine snaps me out of my memories. I blink, unsure what’s happening, why he’s sliding the ring back onto my finger. But I’m too broken, too defeated, too tired to question it, to question him.

Love has beaten the fight out of me.