Chasing forever, p.20
Chasing Forever, page 20
“Anyway, my dad blew up, forbidding me, and when I didn’t bend to his will, he got vengeful and said I wasn’t his son.”
She gasps, and her eyes widen. “What?”
“Yeah.”
“What did your mom say?” She searches my face.
“She was taken aback at first. Upset. Crying. But we both know he did it to punish her.”
Lottie’s eyebrows draw down. “For what?”
“For going to you. For setting off this whole chain reaction. She went to you, that pissed me off, I confronted them, I pulled my endorsement for mayor. He’s already losing, according to him, and me not agreeing to endorse him as I always have in the past would be the final nail in the coffin. He wanted to punish my mom, and who gives a damn who gets hurt in the process? That’s how he works.”
She throws her arms around me, pressing her face into my neck. “I’m so sorry. How are you handling it?”
She draws back a little and studies my face as though she’s waiting for me to cry, or yell, or show anything. Honestly, I think I haven’t fully processed it, and maybe I won’t, but they weren’t my future. I was ready to cut them out regardless.
“This is why you’re home?”
I nod.
She kisses my jaw. “Brooks… I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
I pull her into my lap, just wanting her near me. “You being here is enough.”
“But this… this has to be so hard to wrap your head around. It’s cruel and careless of him to divulge that truth in the middle of a fight.” She climbs off my lap, and I try to tug her back, but she paces, fire in her eyes. “How could they do this? Just drop that bomb in the middle of an argument like a toddler having a tantrum? I hate that I feel bad for your mom… but she didn’t deserve that either.”
She storms into the kitchen and continues unpacking, each item being slammed onto the counter.
“Lottie.” I place my hand on her wrist. “It’s not the spaghetti sauce’s fault.”
She puts up a hand. “Sorry. I’m okay. Just—processing, but I have no right to be the one who’s mad.” She turns and wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m good now.”
I lift her chin. “I appreciate your rage on my behalf. I chopped enough wood last night to start my own firewood company.”
“My rage doesn’t help you though.” She tightens her arms around me, burrowing her head in my chest.
“It does. It makes me feel like you care. Like you’re in this with me.” I kiss the top of her head and breathe in her scent.
She rests her chin on my chest, fingers combing through my hair. She watches me for a moment, looking deep into my eyes, and I know before she even says the words. “I love you, Brooks. I know I took my time admitting it, but I do.”
I smile wide as the weight on my shoulders eases, and something knits together in my chest. “About time.”
She punches me lightly in the stomach. “Shut up.”
We stand there a moment, wrapped up in one another. Although we’re not talking, I feel as though we’re on the same page. I don’t want to let her go.
Then I remember… “Didn’t you say you wanted to tell me something?”
She hesitates. “This was big enough news. Mine can wait.”
“I’d rather get everything out now.”
She unwinds herself from me. “Let me make you dinner. You have a lot to think about right now, and you need to deal with that. It’s a blow you weren’t prepared for, and I’m sure it’s going to take some time to figure out how you feel about it.”
“Lottie.” I walk toward her as she puts some items in the fridge. “It’s a shock for sure, but they aren’t good people. I was already kicking them out of my life. Sure, I haven’t fully processed it, but you and me, us, I need that to be good. So I’d really like it if you told me what you came here to say.”
I give her the opening to share with me what’s causing her distress, unsure if she’ll take it.
She pulls back, rests her hip against the fridge. “You won’t let this go, will you?”
I shake my head once.
“Can we walk and talk?”
Mack lifts his head at the word walk.
“We can go wherever you want.”
I hold out my hand, and she accepts it. For the first time, it feels as if we’re moving forward—together.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Lottie
Brooks doesn’t rush me to start talking. He just runs his thumb slowly across my fingers. Our hands are laced together as we walk around his property. Mack trots beside me this time, not wedged between us, like his own quiet confirmation that even he knows there’s no space left between Brooks and me anymore.
So much has happened in the short time since we’ve returned from Vegas.
“I have to tell you something, but to get there, I have to start with Holden. Are you okay with that?”
“I do know you were engaged to my brother.” There’s a soft tease in his voice as he squeezes my hand.
“Still, I couldn’t stand to be around a girl you barely dated without wanting to tug her down by her hair, and I’m asking you to go back to a time when I was going to marry another man.”
“Just to note, I like the jealous part of you. And I want this. I want you. So I want to know everything you want to tell me.”
I nod, grateful he doesn’t make us stop walking. Instead of heading to the dock, he veers us around the small pond.
“Holden and I moved fast. Not as fast as us, but it felt like it at the time.” I need to get this all out before I lose my nerve. “I thought I was in the middle of one of those whirlwind love stories—flowers, sweet texts, long talks under the stars. I got caught up in the magical way he painted our future with his words. He was charming and ambitious, but most of all he made me feel chosen, as if I were everything to him.
“I’d barely been out of Willowbrook, and he’d studied abroad in Spain. He talked about the world like it was something you had to see in order to say you’d really lived. Naïvely, I thought we were one of those couples who were lucky to find their forever so young.”
I stop and glance at Brooks. I can’t imagine being on his side of this, hearing me talk about how I thought another man, his brother, was my everything.
“I’m good. Promise,” he says gently. His eyes are on me, solid and patient.
“I was only nineteen. It went from kissing to sleeping together really fast. He was my first…”
His jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
“We were careful… or thought we were. But I got pregnant only three months into dating.” I pause, the memories, the emotions crashing in too fast to stop them now. “Your parents had told him to take the summer off before starting job interviews. They probably regret that now.”
I fall silent, the memory painfully pressing against my ribs.
Brooks doesn’t say a word. He’s just there, present. Letting me hold the space how I need to. Letting me tell the story he only knows bits and pieces of.
As hard as I try not to let it happen, I’m taken back to that time, and all the raw emotions claw at me again. Me, crying in Sadie’s arms after I took the pregnancy test. Me telling Holden at our make-out spot. Holden’s truck door slamming so hard it shook the frame. Him pacing in the moonlight, saying I’d tricked him, that I’d trapped him. And me… trying to swallow the shame and figure out how I was going to tell my parents.
“Holden didn’t take it well at first,” I say, not needing Brooks to hear how horrible it felt to get that reaction from the boy I was in love with when an innocent baby of both our making was growing inside me.
Brooks inhales sharply beside me. I don’t need to say it. He knows what that kind of anger looks like. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s not going to change—”
“I don’t want any secrets between us. Please, Lottie.”
I swallow. “He accused me of doing it on purpose. To keep him in Willowbrook. Said I was ruining his future.”
Brooks’s chest rises and falls in a wave of restrained fury. He closes his eyes for a second, as though he’s trying to breathe through it.
“But the next day… he showed up outside my house on bended knee. Rose petals all around him. Apologized for his reaction the night before, told me I just took him by surprise and that he was in shock. When he proposed, he said we’d prove everyone wrong. Said it didn’t matter what anyone thought. And I wanted to believe him so badly that I said yes.
“Our parents weren’t thrilled. Irresponsible, they said. Too young. Holden just kept telling me that it was us against the world. He could be so convincing. One moment cruel, the next, reciting poetry. The good outweighed the bad. It was an adjustment for both of us. The baby wasn’t planned, but they were still wanted.”
“How mean did he get?”
I shake my head. “Just words. I know they can hurt, and they did, but…” I shrug. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s been over for a long time.”
We walk again, both silent for a minute. I feel Brooks growing more tense.
“Can we sit?” I ask.
“We can do whatever you want.” He guides me down onto the grass, our hands still entwined.
“The wedding was fast-tracked for obvious reasons. Holden started looking for jobs in Lincoln and Omaha. I wanted to stay more local now that we were having a baby, but he sold me on leaving. He was good at getting his way and getting others to agree as if they’d never thought any differently. Soon he expanded his search to Seattle, New York, Los Angeles. He’d spend hours dreaming on Zillow, planning nurseries in cities I’d never stepped foot in. It was like a fairytale.”
“Sounds like Holden,” Brooks grumbles.
I shake my head, ashamed I was so naïve. “I let my whole world become about him. I never once asked myself what I wanted. If I wanted to go to school. Work. Anything other than to just… be his.”
Brooks runs his hand down my leg, a quiet reassurance that I’m not alone in this anymore.
“We were three days out from the wedding when I lost the baby. I started bleeding and cramping. My mom rushed me to the hospital. Holden didn’t come for hours. Said his phone died.”
“I remember,” he says, voice tight.
I look up, startled. “That’s right, you were there.”
He nods. “I brought him. Found him drinking with his friends in Lincoln.”
A lump forms in my throat. I’d forgotten. Or maybe I’d buried the memory.
“You probably remember your parents coming into my room and telling us we didn’t have to go through with the wedding anymore. That maybe losing the baby was a sign it wasn’t meant to be.”
He nods again. “They were horrible.”
“But Holden doubled down. Said we’d still get married.”
“He never liked anyone telling him what to do. If my dad said stop, he was going to sprint. I don’t mean that he didn’t want to marry you—”
“It’s okay. I think he didn’t want to, but the more your parents fought it, the more persistent he became that we’d still get married.”
Brooks frowns. “Truth be told, I was really proud of him. I didn’t want to watch him marry the girl I wanted, but I was so happy he didn’t listen to my parents.” Brooks looks away, swallowing hard. “I hated it too though. Watching you be in love with a man who didn’t deserve you, when I…”
I squeeze his hand. He doesn’t have to finish.
“I wore the big puffy dress. Had my hair and makeup done. Waited inside the church on the square and had my pictures taken in the gazebo in the town square before the ceremony while half the town watched on. Everyone in town was invited. Sure, I had some nerves, but I was determined to marry him.”
“You made a beautiful bride.”
A sad sort of chuckle leaves my lips. “You didn’t see me until after. When I was crying on the floor, dress bunched around me, mascara running down my face.”
“I’ll never forget that moment,” he murmurs.
God, I don’t want to do this last part, but I have to. My mom is right—if I don’t tell Brooks what happened, then we can’t move forward. I straighten and take his hands. Mack presses close, resting his head on my thigh as if he knows I’m about to come undone.
“Something else happened that you need to know about, Brooks. Between the miscarriage and the wedding.”
He squeezes my hand.
“Brooks…” My voice trembles. “Brooks…”
Wetness pools in my eyes because I’m about to break his heart. Whether or not he decides to still be with me, he’s going to have to figure out if he still wants a life with me based on this new information.
“You can tell me, Lottie.” He dips his head to meet my gaze.
“I can’t… my uterus… shaped… I can’t carry… a baby.” I close my eyes and inhale the deepest breath before opening my eyes, tears spilling down my cheeks.
He stills. His hand slips from mine, and the air in my lungs collapses.
“I know you need time to figure out if you can live with that. Take all the time you need, and I mean, obviously, Holden… when he found out, he didn’t want me anymore. When I got home from the ceremony that never happened, I found a note he’d left me. It said he’d always dreamed of a family and… more, but I don’t remember it all.” I take another labored breath. “I know there are some options for children but not ones that don’t come with a hefty financial cost and… I get it… I understand if you don’t… you know… want this anymore.” Tears freefall down my cheeks, toppling over one another as if in a race to slip off my face.
Brooks touches my face. “Hey.” His gaze is soft and sympathetic. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” A sob erupts, and I shake my head. “I will never be able to grow our child. I’ll never be able to take your hand and place it on my stomach so you can feel the baby kick. There will be no stomach to kiss or cradle with your hand. No late-night cravings that you have to run out to satisfy. You won’t get to experience our pregnancy, watch our baby grow.” More tears rush down my cheeks as my breathing labors further. Hiccupping sobs rack my body now.
He slides closer, putting his arm around me. I’m pretty sure I’m not crying about not being able to carry a baby—I’ve come to terms with that—but the fact that I might lose Brooks because of it is my undoing.
“I know,” he whispers.
My head jerks up. “What?”
“I knew. Before the wedding. I overheard Holden and my dad talking about it. I kept it to myself because it wasn’t my place to say anything, and I figured it wasn’t something you’d want to talk about with me. But I’ve known all along, Lottie.”
Fresh tears unleash down my face. “And it doesn’t change anything for you?”
“No. Because I want you. If we have a family, we’ll figure it out together. Adoption, surrogacy, fostering… or just you, me, and Mack, if that’s what life gives us.”
“You really mean that?” Hope feels like the first tendrils of a stem poking out of the earth.
He cups my cheek. “I’ve loved you since before I was allowed to. It changes nothing for me.”
“Oh my god, really? Are you sure, Brooks?”
He nods. “Except you reliving that day makes me want to kick Holden’s ass all over again.”
“Again?” I search his face.
“He was holed up in a hotel two towns over. A story for another time.”
I wipe my cheeks. “So, what now?”
“We have one more date. And then you have to decide whether or not you’re keeping me.”
A smile blooms on my face. “I’m keeping you if that’s okay with you?”
He laughs and nudges me down so my back is on the grass. “Hell, Lottie Owens, I’ve wanted you my entire life. You were the last one to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
He cages my head between his hands. “That I was the man for you.”
“So very true.” I place my hand on his cheek. “Thanks for waiting for me to catch up.”
“I’ve been chasing forever with you for a long time. I would’ve waited as long as it took. It was always you, Lottie.”
“Brooks?”
He leans in. “Yeah?”
“Take me to bed.”
He stands, offering me his hand with that crooked smile I’ve always loved. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lottie
Halfway to his house, Brooks bends over and hauls me up over his shoulder.
I shriek. “What are you doing?”
“I need you in my bed, pronto.”
He speedwalks us the rest of the way into his house, waiting for Mack to come inside before kicking the door shut and flicking the lock.
“You never lock the door when you’re home.”
“There will be no interruptions.”
“What if Deputy Moore needs you?” I bang my hands on his ass, grabbing a handful with each hand, but he doesn’t put me down.
“If Moore interrupts us for some stupid shit today, he’s going to have to find another station to work at.” He walks us up the stairs and lowers me down the length of his body until my feet touch the floor.
“I’m not sure how slow I’ll be able to go.” I grab the hem of his shirt, my hands sliding under and up. “Do you think we already had sex?” My fingertips graze over the dips and valleys of his abs. “Because before that morning, I had no idea this is the body you were hiding.”
He stares down at me, and the want and lust filling his gorgeous green eyes makes me want to fall to my knees.
“I really hope we didn’t that night, but seeing you naked and not being able to touch you that morning? Having to act as if I didn’t care? It was pure fucking torture.” His hands toy with the hem of my T-shirt, seeming like he’s trying to decide if he wants to tug it off completely or tease himself.
“Now you can touch.” I move my hands up and his T-shirt rises along with it.
With one hand, he grabs the neckline and tugs it over his head.
