I’m not. They’re deep and dark and will suck a man under in no time flat, leaving him fighting for air.
And I don’t want any part of it.
Grabbing my silverware, I have my other hand wrapped around my plate, preparing to stand, right as my mother says, “We have a wedding to attend.”
The room gets so quiet I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. The air sawing into my lungs. It takes everything I have to move my feet. Putting one boot in front of the other, I carry my plate to the kitchen, put it in the sink, and head straight for the door.
“Toby, wait.” My mother’s voice calls after me.
I don’t plan to stop, but she must have taken off at a full sprint—I’ll have to kick her personal trainer's ass for making that possible—and manages to grab my arm just as I reach the door, halting my escape.
“You knew this was coming, sweetheart.” There’s compassion in her voice and worry in her expression. “Brooke deserves to be happy.”
“She does.” I won’t argue the fact. Brooke does deserve to be happy.
She deserves everything. Including a man who’s ready and willing to give it to her. I had my chance, and I fucked it up.
My mother’s eyes move over my face. “So do you.”
Maybe, but I don’t know that it’s in the cards for me.
“I’ll see you when you get back.” I lean in, pressing a kiss to my mom’s cheek. “Be safe.”
I step out into the night, breathing the cool air deep into my lungs. I’ve kicked myself millions of times over the years for the way things ended between Brooke and me, but I’m not sure they could have ever been different. I can’t move to California, and I would never ask her to pass up an opportunity for me. That wouldn’t be fair.
I still should have done everything in my power to convince her to stay.
Going to where my side-by-side sits, I drop into the seat behind the wheel. I don’t even remember the drive home, and before I know what’s happened, I’m pulling into my garage, parking next to the line of vehicles I keep buying thinking eventually I’ll have enough to be happy.
So far, no such luck.
I go inside, and manage a smile as Copper rushes to greet me, dancing around, her pink polished toenails tapping against the hardwood.
“Hey, pretty girl.” I grab one of the dog treats Mariah taught me how to make her, crouching down as I pass it off. “Were you good while I was gone?”
I reach out to give her some attention, but Copper just snags the treat and runs away, abandoning me now that she has what she wants. After crunching through the biscuit, she curls up in one of her many beds and is snoring almost immediately.
Tucker’s probably right about her being too old to be excited about helping me become the favored uncle. She’s got about one good sprint in her day, and usually wastes it making me chase her around outside to ensure she doesn’t get eaten bya mountain lion. A puppy would be a much better option when it comes to entertaining toddlers.
I narrow my eyes, looking from where Copper is snoozing to the spot I left my laptop sitting. Smirking, I grab a drink from the fridge, my laptop from the counter, and flop onto the couch. Opening up a browser, I type a search into the bar.
What kind of dogs are best with kids?
2
Brooke
Ican’t breathe.
Fighting for air, I try to pull in as much oxygen as I can, but the dress cinched tight around my ribs makes it impossible to fill my lungs.
I claw at my back, reaching for the buttons and zipper holding me hostage, but no matter how far I stretch, they remain just out of reach.
Like so many other things in my life—Peace. Happiness. Love—no matter how hard I try, they’re always too far to grab.
And after today, my chances of ever possessing them go down to zero.
Bending at my waist, I grip the chair next to me, needing something to hang onto. Something to keep me from spiraling further into despair.
