Page 87 of Break Out

“You gave up law school. Clara didn’t go abroad like she’d planned.” I run a hand down my face. Why are we having this conversation? I should have ignored the call.

“I’m glad I didn’t go to law school. I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I was a lawyer working ten hours or more a day. If I had to leave Anabelle every morning and miss out on seeing her grow up.” Bri says softly.

“Don’t you have regrets?”

Bri is quiet for a few beats before she says, “No. I don’t. I love my life. If I had to do it over again, I would. In a heartbeat. It might have felt like a sacrifice in the beginning, but now, looking back on it, I know it wasn’t the right path. Besides, if I change my mind, I can always go when Anabelle is older or when we’re done having kids. Or have a different career. I love my family and my life. I wouldn’t change it.”

“Oh,” I mumble, unsure of what to say. “What about you, Clara?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for so long that I pull my phone away from my ear to make sure the call didn’t disconnect.

Finally, Clara says, “I’m sure it would have been a great time, but I don’t know if it really would have been the right thing for me. Yes, I love fashion, but wearing the clothes. I don’t think I’d love selling them or even designing them. So, no, it wasn’t really a sacrifice to give it up when Chet and I got engaged. Plus, now, I’ve been helping out at the law firm by doing research. I’m thinking about going back to school to become a paralegal.”

I’m speechless.

Here I judged them, well, their relationships really, without knowing all the facts, and I was completely wrong.

“You’re not going to turn into Mom,” Bri says, breaking the silence.

“Wh-what?” I mumble, gulping down the rest of my wine. Where did that come from?

“Is that what this is really about? You’re afraid you’re going to turn into her, or Brody’s going to turn into some form of her, if either of you makes a sacrifice for the other. Because it’s not going to happen. Neither of you are her. You could never be her. She chose to marry Dad and give up her career. To follow him here. She could have still done some sort of acting. She chose not to. The same thing with marrying Arthur. She didn’t have to do that. She just didn’t want to lose control of the company,” Bri states. “You. Are. Not. Mom. Nor will you ever be.”

Is that what I’m really worried about? Maybe it is. “Since when did you become a psychologist?” I finally ask Bri. “Or a mind reader.”

“It wasn’t that hard once I thought about all of it,” Bri says.

I sit in silence, surveying my messy living room. Shit. Have I made a grave mistake? I really do want this job, but I’m also in love with Brody. But it doesn’t feel right that he retires from hockey after the season he had.

“What am I going to do? My flight leaves in the morning.”

“Do you need to be there tomorrow?” Clara asks.

“No,” I admit. My job doesn’t start for a month. And it’s not like I have to find a place to live because the position comes with a small house. I was going early so I didn’t have to be here.

“I think you need to go see Brody. Talk to him. Tell him what’s really going on. Have a conversation with him where you lay it all on the table and actually listen to what he says he wants. Relationships are about compromises. I’m sure there’s a compromise the two of you can reach to both get what you want and be together,“ Bri says.

“I was terrible to him,” I admit, taking a deep breath. “He might not want to hear me out, or he might listen to me, but will he believe me?”

“He’ll believe you. He loves you,” Clara pipes up.

“I need to do something to show him that I’m all in, no matter what he says. That I’m committed to him.”

“What are you thinking?” Bri asks.

“I don’t know . . .” I say, but suddenly a light bulb goes off. I sit up straighter. I know what I have to do. As much as it’ll probably hurt and might backfire if he doesn’t forgive me or still want me, I know it’s the best way to prove to him that I’m all in. That I’m his no matter what. “I’ve got an idea. I’ve got to go.”

I say goodbye to my sisters and make quick work of changing my flight back to my original departure date. I nearly have a heart attack at the fees I’m paying yet again, but I know it’s worth it, he’s worth it.

As I’m packing my bag, my phone rings. I answer it without checking to see who it is. “Hello.”

“Aubrey Elizabeth.” Mother’s voice rings out over the phone. Shit. Fuck. Always check who’s calling.

“Mother.”

“I was calling about—-” she starts to say, but I’m done. I’ve had it with her, so I do something I’ve never done before.

I interrupt her.