Chasing forever, p.19
Chasing Forever, page 19
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lottie
I’m in bed on Monday morning, having already called Saylor to take over my shift.
Brooks never messaged me, and I have no right to think he would have. But I still check my phone obsessively. Still hope. Still hate myself for causing our fight.
Nash came and picked us up at the hospital, and while the nurse wrapped Poppy’s ankle, I cried as if it was my ankle, not hers. I cried when the lady from reception brought me my purse, saying the young man we were with had dropped it off. I cried most of the drive home, facing the window so no one would see.
I thought ending it with Brooks was the right choice. That some sort of relief would wash over me afterward. That I’d go back to normal. Whatever that is. That I’d feel how I did before we got married in Vegas. But this feeling eating away at my insides is even worse.
A knock lands on my bedroom door, and when I don’t say anything, holding my breath that whoever it is will just go away, the door creaks open. I remain in my bed, hoping if I pretend I’m asleep, they’ll leave. The mattress dips, and a hand falls on my shoulder, running down my arm. It’s warm and comforting.
Mom.
I should’ve known but had hoped she was in the middle of the breakfast rush at The Getaway Lodge.
“Sweetie.”
I pull the covers over my head. “Not now, Mom.”
“Come on a ride with me?” Her hand continues to run down my arm. “I think we’re due for a talk.”
I push the covers off and sit up in bed. “I don’t want to talk.”
She nods like she understands, but how could she? She’s never destroyed a relationship with someone who feels like home. She pats my knee and stands. “Get up and meet me outside.”
“And if I don’t?”
She turns around at the door and gives me a soft smile. Her nose crinkles. “I’m not really asking.”
Didn’t think so.
With a sigh, I toss off the covers and grab some shorts and a T-shirt, pulling my hair into a messy bun.
My mom is already in the UTV when I step onto the porch, blinking into the sun as if it’s too bright for the darkness inside of me. I’m happy Scarlett’s at work, and Romy and Poppy are still sleeping. I really don’t want to see anyone else right now.
My mom pats the passenger seat.
“Why are we doing this?” I whine, but she presses on the gas without answering me.
Totally her.
We drive around our side of the ranch. Past the boys’ house, past my parents’ house and The Getaway Lodge. We pass the chicken farm and the horse stables until she stops at the base of Daisy Hill.
“Mom,” I say, my voice flat.
Daisy Hill is where all of our ancestors—including my cousins’ mom—are buried. It’s a huge hill planted with daisies, surrounded by a white fence, with a path winding up to the top that we usually take on horseback.
“Come on.” She nudges me and turns off the UTV, pocketing the keys and ruining my escape plan.
I reluctantly follow her, and she holds the gate open for me when we reach the top of the hill. It’s clear someone’s been here recently since Aunt Daisy’s grave is littered with fresh flowers.
My mom sits on one of the benches near my grandparents’ graves and eyes the empty spot next to her. “Want to talk about it?”
I plop down beside her, and she pats my leg.
“Ever feel like you’re just losing it?”
She laughs. “Wait until you go through menopause. It gives a whole new meaning to the words losing it.”
“What do you already know?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Only that one of my daughters went off with some country singer and didn’t get dropped off until six this morning. My niece broke her ankle, and my other daughter was crying in the hospital and all the way home.”
I bite my lip. “Who told you?”
“I don’t give away my sources. Why were you crying in the hospital when you weren’t the one who broke her ankle?”
“I basically ended it with Brooks.”
Her head rocks back, and she rises from the bench before crouching at her parents’ graves, picking around the stones.
“You know, I used to hate the weeds that come in and crowd out the good stuff.” She pulls one and tosses it aside. “Did you know daisies are weeds?”
“Why are we talking about weeds?”
“Humor me,” she says, searching through the grass for more. “People don’t realize that the definition of a weed is just a wild plant that’s not wanted in the area. Someone might look at this hill of daisies and only see something undesirable. Others see beauty. It really is just in the eye of the beholder.”
“We don’t have a future. There’s too much that’s happened.”
“Let’s push all the stuff with Holden away. It’s been so long, and no one in this town looks at you the way you think they do. Tell me what’s really worrying you.”
I slide off the bench and join her in the grass. “I thought I was doing well, pushing forward, but then Mrs. Watson came into the store and… well…”
“You’d think a woman with problems in her own home wouldn’t go causing them in someone else’s.” Her voice sharpens. “That’s the problem. In my eyes, she’s undesirable. Just an unwanted weed.”
I laugh a little bitterly, and my mom bumps her shoulder against mine.
“I know I shouldn’t listen to her,” I say.
“You shouldn’t. But there’s hurt there, and it’s hard to overcome that. Especially with how young you were. Can I speak frankly, sweetie?”
“Don’t you always?”
She tilts her head. “Yeah, pretty much. I think you’re afraid of feeling unwanted again. Am I right?”
“Are you really comparing me to a weed?” Tears fill my eyes.
“A pretty one. A daisy.”
I shake my head, my face crumpling. “He wants a family, Mom.” Tears spill freely down my cheeks now.
She puts her hand on my back and rubs slow, steady circles. Not saying anything. Just letting me fall apart in the grass.
“I can’t give it to him. He’s not going to want me after he finds out. That future he’s built up of us in his mind is never going to happen.”
“So that’s it? You’re making the decision for him?”
I pluck out a weed and toss it on the pile. “What choice do I have? He’s made it clear he sees a family in his future.”
“Okay. So that’s that? You just live alone and don’t ever put yourself out there? Deny yourself the love you deserve?”
“Come on. I’m a weed. One of those horrible ones that squeezes out all the beauty.” I tug on one, but only the leaves give.
“I don’t think you’re that one. That one’s holding on with all its might. You’re more like this.” She plucks a daisy from the grass. “This one’s ready to be moved. To grow somewhere else.”
“Thanks for that.”
We sit in silence, the sun warming the back of my neck.
“You know,” she says after a beat, “I actually would like to thank Holden if I ever see him again.”
“What?” I blink, and my forehead wrinkles.
“He gave you a crash course in life when you were nineteen years old. He taught you that nothing comes easy, that people will disappoint you. He broke your trust and your belief in people. You built a damn fortress around your heart.”
“Why is that a good thing?”
She sways slightly. “Because only the strong ones will get in past your defenses. You’re not giving just anyone the ability to hurt you again. And someone did get in. Someone took down your wall, brick by brick. And now you’re trying to tell him he doesn’t belong there.”
“So, I’m a weed with a wall and Brooks bulldozed it?”
“He didn’t bulldoze it. He earned every brick he removed. That’s the only way you’d ever let him in.” She pats my leg. “You know who he is. But you also assume you know what he wants.”
“It’s easier this way.”
“You think if you don’t tell him, he can’t break your heart?”
“Yeah.”
“And yet you were crying in a hospital and for an hour drive home, and you didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. Sounds like you’ve got it all together.”
A bitter laugh slips out of me, understanding her point. “I get it, okay… I do.”
“That’s because you’re my smartest child. But don’t tell Bennett or Romy.” She laughs, and I laugh with her because we both know she says the same thing to them. “Family isn’t just blood. You know that. Brooks was family before you drunk-married him.”
I nod.
She adds, “There are a lot of options out there. And from what I know of Brooks, he’s not afraid of hard work. Maybe your path to kids looks different, but that boy will be by your side through all of it.”
I run my fingers under my eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
She wraps her arm around me. “How’d I do? It’s my first official ‘get out of your own way and be happy’ talk. I was nervous. Went a lot of different directions.”
“You mean comparing me to a weed?”
We laugh, and I rest my head on her shoulder.
“I love you,” she says softly. “And I want you to be happy and get everything you want.”
“I think it’s Brooks,” I say.
She laughs louder. “Oh, you do, do you? I think you might be the last one to know.”
A butterfly floats down and lands on one of the daisies.
“Oh. Oh!” Mom sits up straight. “It’s the perfect sign.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Butterflies symbolize rebirth. Transformation. It’s a sign.”
I stopped believing in signs after Holden. But something about today… maybe this butterfly is the start of something new. Something good.
“What a perfect way to seal this all up.” She dips her head. “Thank you, little butterfly.”
It lifts off the daisy and floats back into the sky.
“You scared it,” I say, standing and brushing off my shorts.
“I didn’t scare it. It’s off to find the next person who needs their life fixed.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.”
She stands and slings her arm around me, and we walk down the hill together.
Uncle Bruce is waiting at the bottom. “Came to help in case your mom messed up.” He winks.
“I don’t need your help, big brother,” she says. “I did a great job, right, Lottie?”
“She was saved by a butterfly.”
Mom nudges me, and I laugh.
Uncle Bruce pulls me in for a hug and kisses my forehead. “Go get him.” He winks and starts up the hill. Probably to see Aunt Daisy.
I climb into the UTV and glance back as Mom starts it.
“Think he’ll ever take his own advice?” I ask.
“I hope so.” She exhales as we drive away.
I have so many regrets about how I handled all of this because of how scared I was—of my feelings, of his feelings, of the truth. And now I have to wait until Brooks is off work to try to make this right.
But for the first time in days, I don’t want to hide, I want to run. Toward Brooks and our future. I guess now I just have to figure out how to win him back.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Brooks
I never call out from work. I work holidays. I’m on call more than I’m not—but today, I’m off. No badge, no radio. Just me and a whole lot of thoughts I’m not ready to dissect.
My father’s words echo through my head every time I let the silence stretch too long—“you’re not mine.”
The worst part was that it was a semi-relief. Somewhere deep down, I’ve always been scared I’d turn into him. Now there’s a crack in that fear because he created no part of me.
I still believe who you are is more about how you’re brought up, what you witness and absorb. Not blood. But it doesn’t change the relief that’s set in since I found out. But with that relief comes a sense of betrayal too, for keeping the truth from me for so many years.
My mom has called more than a handful of times, but she’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to return any of her calls. Not now. Maybe not ever.
I’m on the couch, vegging with a cold pizza from last night and binge-watching How to Catch a Smuggler. Mack is sprawled out on the floor as though he’s emotionally recovering too. Probably missing Lottie.
Then I hear the crunch of gravel on my drive. I tense, hoping it’s not either of my parents. It won’t be Lottie, so there’s no reason to bother to get up.
Footsteps echo up my porch steps. I wait for a knock on the door I fully plan to ignore. But the doorknob turns, and I glance over.
No one just walks into my house. Except maybe Ben in a crisis. But he doesn’t know what went down last night, and there’s no way this town has heard the secret. My parents would rather be buried alive than tell anyone that truth. No doubt my dad is regretting his anger-filled rant from last night, worried I’m going to out them both to the citizens of Willowbrook.
Mack lifts his head, then springs up. His ears perk forward, his tail wagging. Definitely not my parents then. Mack doesn’t fake his loyalty.
I stand as the door cracks open.
“Hey, Mack. I’m just going to drop these off right here, and then I’ll be right back.”
She’s here. She came.
“Lottie?” I cross the room in a few hard strides, then yank the door the rest of the way open.
She’s dressed up with her hair done, makeup on, and arms full of grocery bags. The expression on her face makes her look as though she’s been caught.
“You’re home.” She rocks back as if she wasn’t expecting me. “Oh. I wasn’t prepared.”
We stand, each taking the other in. I’m an idiot for letting her push me away last night, letting her think she could walk out of my life and I wouldn’t fight for us.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice stumbles out, her eyes wide and glassy. “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
I wrap an arm around her neck and pull her in, pressing my forehead to hers. Her breath hitches and mine stays trapped in my chest until we can get this all cleared up.
“It was me,” I murmur. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re right—I should’ve been telling you how much I love you for who you are today, not trying to rewind time. That’s not the woman I fell in love with.”
“Brooks,” she says softly, pulling back just enough to look at me, “please let me say what I need to first, okay?”
I nod and reach to take the bags from her hands. “Okay. Let me help.” I peek inside. “What’s all this?”
Her shoulders slump. “I was going to make you dinner. As an apology. Thought I’d be waiting for you to come home, but…”
She walks into the kitchen, Mack trailing her as though she’s his everything. Get in line, buddy.
“Why are you home, Brooks?” She unpacks while I carry in the rest of the bags.
“You have more in the car?” I’m dodging her question.
“Just a few. I’ll get them.”
“No, I got it. I think someone wants your attention.” I glance at Mack sitting next to her, tail thumping, waiting patiently.
She looks down and smiles. “I’m sorry, Mack. My mind is all over the place. I’m trying to win Daddy back.”
I freeze at the door and look over my shoulder. She looks at me, waiting for my reaction as she’s kneeling, running her hands through Mack’s fur.
“You never lost him.”
Her lips tip up, and that smile undoes all the turmoil inside me. And it guts me in equal measure. She shouldn’t have had to come to me. I should’ve been the one pounding on her door last night.
I jog to her car, grab the remaining bags, and return to find her unwrapping one of those fancy dog treats she carries at the store.
“I didn’t forget about you.” She hands it to Mack, and he trots off, apparently satisfied.
“I thought he’d never leave us alone.” I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder.
She leans back into me. “We need to talk. I don’t want to sweep the fight under the rug… but why are you home? It’s not because of our fight, is it?”
I hold her tighter. “I’d rather talk about us.”
My voice cracks on the edges. She hears it. Of course she does. She swivels in my arms, slides her hand into mine, and leads me to the couch.
This is it. The truth I haven’t said aloud. The one I’m not ready to own but want to share with her at the same time.
She abandons the groceries and sits beside me, legs crossed, facing me. “What is it?”
I love that she knows something’s off. Love that she sees me even when I’m trying to hide.
“I went to my parents’ place last night.” I take her hand, needing something steady.
She scoots closer, her calf brushing my thigh. I want her in my lap but if she straddles me, this talk won’t happen. And it needs to.
She doesn’t try to fill the silence but waits for me to speak. I’m probably scaring her.
“I went to tell them to stay out of our relationship. And tell them I was cutting them out of my life.”
“Brooks.” Her voice breaks.
“My dad was angry. He wanted me to endorse him as mayor, but they wouldn’t listen to me. Hell-bent on saying you were…” I frown. “Using me.”
She nods. I assume my mother accused her of the same when she went to see her at the store. I’m sure it doesn’t make it any easier for her to hear it again though.
“My dad was pissed after I told them that if they couldn’t respect you and our relationship that I didn’t want them to be a part of our lives. When I didn’t cave, I told him I was backing Miller and… he lost it.” I swallow hard.
Her hand flies to her mouth. “No.”
I look her straight in the eye. “I do not want them poisoning this. What kind of life could we have if they’re constantly trying to destroy us?”
Her hands tighten over my mine.
