BROOKLYN
“I’m going out with Ming and Rina. Do you want to come?” I asked as I entered the living room, knowing Reece was going to say no.
It didn’t matter that he would reject my offers. I still wanted to make him feel at least a little included. Perhaps if I kept asking him to come, he’d say yes eventually.
“Nah, I’m good.” He waved me off, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the TV. “Get me a whiskey from the pantry before you leave, okay?”
I sighed softly, used to Reece’s dismissive responses by now.
Grabbing my purse from the hook by the door, I made my way over to the pantry, retrieving one of the three remaining bottles of whiskey he requested.
I closed the pantry door with a soft click, feeling a pang of sadness for my fiancé. He used to be so full of life, but ever since his father’s passing, he turned into nothing but a shell.
As I reapproached him, I set the bottle down on the coffee table, not bothering to pour him a glass since I knew he was just going to drink straight from the bottle afterI left anyway.
Reece glanced at the bottle of whiskey, a flicker of emotion crossing his eyes before he masked it with a nonchalant expression. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the bottle, his fingers wrapping around it tightly.
He didn’t say thank you, but he rarely did anymore.
“I’m leaving then,” I told him. “Or do you need something else before I go?”
“No, I’m good,” Reece replied. He was staring at the TV, watching some kind of commercial that wasfarfrom interesting, yet he made it seem like the most exquisite form of television ever.
His blue eyes were empty, not an ounce of emotion glistening in them. He looked almost haunted, I could barely recognize him.
I hesitated for a moment, my heart aching for him. “Reece, please talk to me,” I practically begged. “I know you’re hurting, and I want to help you through this.”
He met my gaze then, the lack of emotion turning into anger. “I don’t need your help, Brooklyn.”
A lump formed in my throat as frustration built within me.
All I wanted was to help him, to be there for him when he clearly needed someone. But Reece had built a wall so high around himself, that it seemed impossible to reach him anymore.
I knew he was struggling, drowning in grief and self-destructive habits. And as much as it pained me to see him this way, I couldn't force him to accept my help.
Taking a deep breath, I tried my best to shake off the sadness that was slowly creeping up on me. “Are you at least going to spend Christmas with your family?”
Reece’s jaw tensed at the mention of Christmas.
It was anything but a joyful holiday for the Carters this year, I knew that, but he could at least show up, right?
“I don’t know, Brooke. Maybe.”
I nodded softly, knowing better than to push further. “Just know that they miss you.”
“Whatever.” He gulped down a huge sip of whiskey.
“Rina and Ming are waiting downstairs,” I muttered as I went to grab my jacket, aware of the fact that he wasn’t even going to bother to respond.
As I slipped on my jacket, I couldn’t help but steal one last glance at Reece. His shoulders were slumped, not a single hair was in place, and I was sure he’d been wearing the same shirt for a week now.
As I opened the door to leave, I heard Reece call my name, so I turned around. For a moment, I hoped he was going to ask me to wait, tell me he was going to take a shower and come with me… but instead, he simply said, “Have fun with your friends.”
Well, it wasn’t what I hoped for, but I’d take it. Reece hadn’t said anything like that in what felt like years. Small steps, right?
“Ming’s your friend, too, you know?”
Reece let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, well, I doubt he wants to be my friend right now.”
