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Brooklyn
Ifeel like a complete asshole.
I’ve been a little more than moody and short-tempered with Tyler lately, and I want to show him tonight that deep down, amidst all the stress and hormones, the sweet Brooklyn he fell in love with is still in here.
I dip out of work a little early to head to the grocery store. Something I’ve learned about Tyler is that one of his love languages is acts of kindness. He loves to cook for me and I want to return the favor, so I called up Celeste to find out what his absolute favorite meal was growing up.
It’s nothing fancy, which doesn’t surprise me: broccoli cheese bake. It consists of broccoli, rice, some sort of chipped ham, and Velveeta cheese. Easy enough. I can make it without too much preparation, and it sounds extremely delicious after this long day.
Normally, I’d pick up a bottle of wine or champagne, but that’s out of the picture now.
“How can I make this sexy?” I stare down at the ingredients. “Candles, maybe some mood lighting and soft jazz.”
I light a few candles and dim the lights, putting on a sexy playlist I found on Spotify, and get to cooking.
I decide to send him a text to hint that something special is happening tonight.
Me: What’s warm, gooey, and edible? I’ll give you a hint: It’s not me.
I don’t want to give away what I’m making for him, because I don’t think he’d ever guess it would be his favorite childhood meal.
I finish assembling the dish, place it in the oven to bake, and check my phone. No response from Tyler. He’s most likely busy, so I decide to up the spice a little. I run upstairs and put on a sexy lingerie set I can just barely still squeeze myself into. My boobs have certainly grown with pregnancy, which he has been very vocally appreciative of.
I slide on a pair of cute heels and my robe and go back down to the kitchen. I pull the robe down over my shoulders and squeeze my breasts together while I angle the camera. I take a few selfies, find the best one, and shoot it over to him.
The two other times I’ve done this, he loved it. The first time, he was just downstairs and I was already in bed. I heard the back door slam and his footsteps come up the stairs at breakneck speed. The second time, he was driving and said he almost drove through the garage.
Both times ended with me worn out and satisfied, followed by the best night’s sleep of my life—something that sounds like heaven right now. I’ve been beyond exhausted and beyond turned on. If all goes according to plan, I’ll scratch both of those itches tonight.
I pull the casserole out of the oven and check my phone. Still no response from Tyler. I look outside to see if his truck is gone, but it’s still here. The sun is just starting to set.
I don’t want to bug him since I know he’s busy, but I decide a quick call can’t hurt. It rings several times then goes to voicemail.
I kill some time putting laundry away and figuring out what I’m going to wear tomorrow. I pull my shirt up in the closet mirror and run my hand down my still-mostly-flat belly. I haven’t popped yet at all and, really, the only weight gain has been in my breasts and hips. I do feel like my face is getting a little fuller as well.
I grab my phone and snap a picture from the side, figuring someday I’ll be able to show my child their bump progress. Plus I know once we tell everyone, my mom will want pictures so she can put together a scrapbook, or as she likes to call it, a Midwest Bible.
Tyler still hasn’t called, and weirdly, I start to get a little nervous. Trent’s warnings about how dangerous some of these land developers are ring in my ears, so I decide one more call can’t hurt. But as soon as my thumb hovers over his name, Trent calls me.
“Hey, I was just about ca—”
“Brook, listen to me,” I can hear the panic in Trent’s voice, “I need you to sit down.”
“What?” I say, tears already gathering in my eyes. “What happened?”
“Tyler . . . he’s been shot.”
The room starts to spin and my ears begin to ring. This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.
“Brooklyn, are you there? Brook, I need you to breathe.”
“I’m here, I—I don’t understand.” My voice begins to hitch and I sink down on the floor, all feeling leaving my body.
“I’m getting in the Flight for Life helicopter with him now.”
The words Flight for Life make my stomach flip and I run to the bathroom to empty the contents into the toilet. “My dad is almost to you. He’s picking you up and taking you to meet us at UCHealth in Fort Collins.”
I can’t process what’s being said to me right now. I turn on the faucet and splash cold water on my face. Trent’s voice is drowned out as I put down the phone.
