“Because you aren’t yourself—at least, not the self you’re holding on to. You’re different now than you were at 15 or 16. And not just as a result of the typical growing-up that occurs during that time. Already in your life, you’ve faced two of the big 3 D’s.”
I gave her a blank look.
“Divorce, death, and disease. These are some of the most life-altering events a person can face. They quite literally alter our chemical makeup. So in a very real way—you’re not the same person you were before you lost your dad and your health. You’re a different person now.”
The words nearly took my breath away, like I’d fallen from a steep height. Wow, though. They made sense.
“I think we’ve made some good progress today, Brooke.” Cheryl smiled at me warmly as she motioned for me to stand and follow her out of the office. “Same time next week?”
“Yeah . . .” I confirmed, head in a daze.
“Luckily your job values your mental health, so you have eight sessions covered by insurance. That should be plenty of time for us to get to know each other and make a good head start on grappling with what you’re dealing with. Then we’ll take it from there.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Moore. Cheryl,” I said, walking back out into the brightly lit lobby. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Well?”Whit inquired when I got home that afternoon. “You don’t have to give me details if you don’t want. But—did it help?”
I’d driven home in a daze, Cheryl’s words bouncing around in my head. It was like watching a chess game of my life, the pieces slowly rearranging as the game took shape.
“Yeah . . . I think it did.”
I gave Whit a tentative smile.
I was thankful when she let me off easily, changing the subject. She clapped her hands together, decision made. “Alright. I think I know what’s on the menu for tonight: homemade pizza, and Chris Evans.”
Did I mention she’s the best?
11
CADE
While I still found solace in watching my weekly baseball games—the Jays were struggling, but they might actually have a shot at the postseason—I began to browse the channels airing romance movies as well. The guys at the firehouse would give me endless grief if they found out, but I needed a playbook, and I was open to any research to guide me. Girls liked these movies for a reason, right?
According to Val, I had one real shot left, and I was not going to mess this up. I wasn’t one to waste time feeling sorry for myself, preferring instead to set a goal and put my mind to achieving it.
Titanichad been a bust for me, butThe Notebookhit me surprisingly hard. The old guy reminded me of my dad, the steady way he’d always helped my mom with anything she needed. When we were kids, I’d often wished Brooke had had a dad as supportive as mine. It wasn’t an overwhelmingly affectionate relationship I’d seen at home, but it was balanced and secure, and I’d always instinctively known my parents loved each other and would always take care of each other.
What really hit me, though, was the fire between young Noah and Allie. The obstacles they’d faced, and how she almost settled for a different dude. Their fights were kind of unhinged, but for some reason, the story still tugged at my heartstrings. He really never gave up on her, all those years. I felt a kinship there.
I’d always felt like Brooke and I were tethered by an invisible string. Even as it unspooled and we went through phases where we were further apart (emotionally or geographically), the connection was still there.
Two weeksand two days after my original call, heart in my throat, I picked up my phone and hit dial on the contact for Brooke’s place.
Once again, her roommate answered.
I tried to stay positive.
“Hi, Whitney, right? This is Cade. Look—I know maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me. I don’t know exactly what she’s going through, or what she’s told you about me. I don’t want to pile on, but I’ve known her a long time and—I can tell something is going on with her. Do you think she’d be up for talking to me?”
Whitney took a breath. “Well, Cade, your instincts aren’t off base. She’s definitely battling some demons, though I won’t get into specifics without her permission. I can’t honestly say whether talking to you at this point will help or hurt. She’s not here right now, anyway. She has a standing Thursday night date night with Brock.”
I’d be lying if I said hearing that she was out with another guy wasn’t a gut punch, but I swallowed my pride and pressed on.
Friends, I reminded myself.
“How long have you known her?” I asked, curious.
“We interned together as nurses a couple years ago. We hit it off right away and decided to room together. Boston’s expensive, ya know.”
