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This was too much to process. A whole spectrum of emotions battled for dominance, and she didn’t know which one should hold dominion. There was a lot of anger—alotof anger—accompanied by a side dish of confusion and a soupçon of disbelief.Thatwas quickly followed by a wave of righteous indignation. Becauseof coursethey’d kept this from her. Of course they had.
Brooke hadn’t talked to her dad in years, but her mom called every few weeks to keep up the appearance of a relationship. Somehow, weirdly, Brooke’s dad was never able to come to the phone, although her mom always made up some excuse why not. For eight years now, her mom had been making excuses, trying to pretend everything was fine and there was nothing at all out of the ordinary about the fact that Brooke’s dad barely even acknowledged her existence.
The last time she’d talked to her mom must have been about two weeks ago, and Brooke had specifically asked how her dad was. She knew she had, because she always asked—although she had no idea why she bothered.
She couldn’t remember her mom’s exact words, but they sure as hell hadn’t included any mention of cancer. She would have fucking remembered that. She was certain her mom had given her usual vague answer about Dad being fine and his work being fine and everything being fine, because god forbid anyone in this family tell the truth or admit to any shortcomings. The fucking sky might fall if they allowed that to happen.
“Okay, but you knew about the cancer at least,” Dylan said, watching her. “Right?”
Brooke didn’t say anything.
“Please tell me you knew about that, Brooke. Jesus.”
“When did you find out about it?” she demanded.
He ran a hand through his hair. “My mom told me…it must have been a month ago? I assume she talked to your mom.”
“So Mom’s telling the neighbors about my dad’s cancer. She’s just not telling me. That’s great. That’s awesome.” Brooke had learned a long time ago not to expect anything from her father. But her mother should have told her. She’d thought they at least had that much of a relationship. But apparently even that was an illusion.
“I don’t understand how things have gotten so bad between you and your parents,” Dylan said. “Y’all always used to be so close. I remember coming over for dinner and seeing you all together, and being envious because your family seemed so happy and normal compared to mine.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Brooke said.
She’d never told Dylan about her “trouble” their senior year. For a whole hot minute, she’d considered asking him to drive her home from the clinic, knowing he’d do anything she asked. But she’d quickly thought better of it. He would have felt obligated to help—and maybe give Kyle a piece of his mind as well—and Brooke hadn’t wanted to put Dylan in that position.
Once the problem had been taken care of, she’d just wanted to move on with her life. At the time, Dylan had assumed Brooke was upset about her breakup with Kyle, and she hadn’t seen any reason to tell him about the rest of it. The fewer people who knew the truth, the easier it was to move on. That was what she’d told herself, anyway.
But really she’d been embarrassed to admit she’d made such a dumb mistake. Dylan had always treated her like she was so smart and accomplished, and she liked that he thought of her that way. She hadn’t wanted to shatter his illusions.
There was also maybe a small part of her that had been afraid to tell Dylan. It was irrational, but her relationship with every other person who knew the truth had been irrevocably damaged. She hadn’t wanted to risk losing Dylan too.
“What can I do?” he asked, watching her with concern.
“Nothing.”
“I feel terrible. If I’d known you didn’t know—”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Do you want to call home?”
“It’s almost midnight in Baton Rouge. I can’t call tonight.” Brooke didn’t know what she’d say, anyway. It was going to take some time to process this before she was ready to confront her mom.
Dylan got up and came over to her. “Come here.” His arms wrapped her up and she sagged against him. “I’m sorry,” he said as his hands stroked up and down her back. “I’m sorry your dad’s sick, and I’m sorry your parents didn’t tell you. I’m sorry they haven’t been there for you the way you needed them to be. It sucks and you deserve better.”
Brooke felt her eyes well with tears and disengaged herself from Dylan’s arms. She couldn’t afford to give in to her emotions right now or she would lose it all over him. The last thing she intended to do was cry over her father.
She started to pace again, but her legs felt too wobbly, so she dropped down on the couch instead.
Dylan sat down next to her. “I know you don’t like to talk about heavy shit, but it might help.”
Her shoulders twitched. “It’s ancient history.”
“Not if it’s affecting you right now, it’s not.”
She hunched forward and rubbed her head. Maybe he was right. There wasn’t any reason not to tell him at this point. Keeping a secret only gave it more power. She’d made peace with her choice a long time ago, and she refused to be ashamed of it.
Straightening her spine, she stared straight ahead as she spoke in a detached monotone. “There’s not really that much to tell. I got pregnant, and I got an abortion. My dad never forgave me. That’s the end.”
