Page 73 of Restored Dreams

“We’re good,” Brut says to his brother on speakerphone while he’s in the bathroom trimming his scruff.

“Never figured you for someone who’d like playing house,” Hank replies.

“We’re not playing house. We’re having fun.”

The statement crushes me.

“Lily, we need to get married.” The demand in his tone doesn’t sit right.

“We don’t need to do anything, Brut. It should be that we want to get married.”

“Well, that’s the question I asked you. Don’t you want to get married?”

“I do. It’s just…” My voice fades as my eyes close. I’m under too much pressure. I want to feel like an equal, not an obligation.

“What?” he snaps, and the tone of his voice is the tipping point. Over the edge of the cliff, I go.

“I just think I got caught in the rush. I mean, Brut, honestly, I’ve loved you since I was nineteen, and I just always thought…hoped…dreamed…you’d come back to me someday. I knew all the reasons we didn’t work, and I still wanted you, and then Midge and Hank had to play matchmakers and set us up on that godforsaken vacation.”

“Godforsaken,” he murmurs, and I don’t know if he’s mocking me or stunned by the implication of a mistake.

“And everything seemed so perfect. One week. No past. No future. Everything and beyond, right? But you know what, Brut?” My voice rises as do my arms, flailing out as my irritation grows, and I find myself imploding. “The past is always there to haunt us, isn’t it? There comes Lauren. Even from her deathbed, she can’t let us be. And then the future. Boy, I bet you never thought beyond meant another baby. A baby!” I shriek. I’m on a roll. “I mean, how ironic.” Tears have joined my tirade, and I don’t even bother to wipe them away. I almost feel sorry for Brut as he’s seen too many from me lately, but I’m nearing the bottom of the ravine I’ve jumped into, and it’s going to hurt when I hit the hard surface.

“You’re so honorable and responsible; you just step right up with solutions for everything. And I admit, I got caught up in it all with you. I mean, look at this kitchen. It’s beautiful, and I want to feel like you did it for me—”

“I did,” he interjects, his voice low, his brows pinching. I hold up my hand. I have so much to say, and I need to get it out. I can almost feel the negative energy leaving me, and I didn’t realize how heavy the weight was until I start feeling lighter the more I let go.

“Would I even be here if it weren’t for Lima Bean?”

He remains silent, and I have my answer.

When Lauren died, everything shifted, and then Brut disappeared, just as he did when she destroyed us before. He wouldn’t have come to see me if Midge hadn’t told him I was sick. My shoulders fall with the thought. Brut’s continually put in a position to see me, but he hasn’t taken the initiative himself. The vacation. Lauren’s funeral. The pregnancy.

“This is my fault,” I say. “I fell for you just as I did when I was younger. I thought I meant more to you, and I let myself be swallowed up again.” A sob interrupts my words. “Brut, I want everything for you. Everything and beyond, but I want it for me, too.” I swipe at the snot coming from my nose. “Remember when we talked about what would be fun for you, Brut? At the beach house? Sexy Scrabble?” Brut stares at me as he’s been doing for the past few minutes. His expression remains hard, no emotion in his eyes, a twitch to his jaw.

“I don’t want to be your fun, Brut. I want to be your heart. I want to be the love of—”

I stop abruptly as Brut steps into my space, his hands cupping my cheeks.

“Don’t kiss me,” I whisper because I realize my problem with Brut. I’m attracted to him beyond normal. My body reacts to his like no other. One taste of his lips, and I’m going to give in. And I can’t.

“What the fuck?” he mutters toward my mouth just as the back door opens.

“Get a room, you two.” Chopper laughs from behind his dad, and Brut releases me, twisting before me. I’m grateful for his body-block as I spin for the sink, reaching for a paper towel to wipe at my face and blow my nose.

“Hey,” Brut says, to which Chopper quickly responds, “What’s going on?”

“I forgot I asked you to pick me up.”

Chopper ignores his father and addresses me. “Lily, what’s wrong?”

I turn to face him, knowing my face is red and splotching from the number of tears I’ve shed. My eyes still burn, and I struggle to will away more moisture.

“Just pregnancy stuff,” I mutter, waving a hand to dismiss the mess I am.

“Jesus, good thing I never plan to have kids.” For some reason, this statement sucker-punches me. He means nothing by it other than being a flippant twenty-two-year-old, but it hurts. I’m back to thinking of Brut and how he’s had two children, out of wedlock, both unplanned. No wonder he’s never written a bucket list. Suddenly, I’m so drained I just want to return to bed, but Because Cupcakes needs me, and right now, I need it.

An awkward moment passes.