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“You were right.”
She narrowed her eyes, and I kept right on going, worried the fierceness of her glare would make me cave.
“You were right about Mariah. Right about all of it. I found out the truth about that night.”
She closed her eyes. “When?”
I took another deep breath. “About a month after school finished.” Brooke’s eyes shot to me, the shock making the brown glow. “She kept hounding me after—” I swallowed hard but there was no way in hell I could finish that sentence. So, I plowed on. “She wanted us to be a couple, but I didn’t want to. Ineverwanted to, and one day, when she was going on about how perfect we’d be together, I snapped. I told her we’d never be together, that we had no future as a couple, and that our friendship should probably end, too.”
Brooke shook her head. “What did she say?”
“She freaked. She started yelling and screaming about how she’d wasted so many years pining after me, how I had led her on when we’d first started college, and how she’d done me a favor, getting you out of the way.”
Brooke winced, closing both eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek. I reached up to wipe it, but she flinched away from my touch.
I went on, refusing to stop now. “I demanded she tell me everything—and I mean everything, going back to the early days that you and I were together. She did, and then I confirmed it all with her friends. I was so angry. I think they were too scared of me to even think about covering for her. Everything you thought—everything you’d ever said—you were right.”
Another tear streaked down Brooke’s face, and she wiped it with the back of her hand. She sat silent for several beats, and it was all I could do to not shrink into myself. I was an asshole. Truly. The biggest asshole that ever lived.
“So, let me get this straight,” she finally said. “You knew way back then. You knew that I was right and that everything you accused me of was wrong and cruel, and you said nothing?” She tore to her feet. “You let eight years go by—hell, it would have been even more if not for this twisted coincidence—and you didn’t think to reach out?”
Desperation sprang me to my feet. “At first, I wasn’t sure what to say. I felt so stupid and so ashamed for everything I did that I couldn’t face you, and then—”
“And, then you moved on with your life and figured I’d get over it,” she scoffed.
“No, Brooke, that’s not it.” My mind raced to try to come up with the right words, with how to explain myself, no more able now than I had been then.
She exhaled, and her face morphed into something hard, emotionless. When she spoke, her tone matched.
“You don’t need to explain any further. It’s good that I know now. I think it’ll allow us to move forward, leave the past in the past, and better navigate this new situation we find ourselves in.”
The formality of her words twisted like a corkscrew in my stomach. “Brooke, please. This isn’t some corporate press release you’re writing. Don’t shut down. Let’s talk about this.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “That’s rich coming from you. Didn’t I beg you to stay? Beg you to talk to me the morning after Mariah set me up?”
“You did, and I should have listened. I never should have gone to see her. If I had just stayed, then—”
“Then you wouldn’t have destroyed us,” Brooke said, voice so low, I almost didn’t hear it. “You wouldn’t have slept with her and broken my heart beyond repair. Brokenusbeyond repair.”
Without a parting glance, she tore back down the path toward the house. Every fiber in me wanted to run after her, but my feet were frozen again. I slid back down onto the bench, trying to catch my breath. There was no way I would sleep at all tonight.
CHAPTER7
Alex
NOW
“Who’sready to go to the Hamptons?” Lillian asked as we wrapped up breakfast the next morning. The rest of the weekend would be spent in East Hampton, getting an early start on the summer.
“I totally am,” Leah said, eating the last bite of her spinach omelet.
“Me, too,” Liam added. He had opted for an egg white, blueberry, spinach smoothie.Of course.
I had also gone with an omelet and was on my fourth cup of coffee, but it did nothing to quell the exhaustion coursing through me. I had stayed in the garden for at least another hour after Brooke had left, feeling even more restless than when I’d first gone out.
We’d barely said two words to each other this morning, which I hoped wasn’t a sign of things to come. I’d told myself that by having that long overdue conversation last night, I had done two things. One, make amends with Brooke and, two, give myself some long overdue closure so I could refocus on Leah.
I was engaged, for Christ’s sake. I needed to put all my attention on my fiancée and—as Brooke had said last night—find a way to move forward through these strange circumstances. The jury was still out on whether or not I’d accomplished either task.
