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.”