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I massage my hands. “No! You’re twisting my words.” I exhale heavily. “God,I’mmixing my words. It’s about me, Brooks.”
“I’m listening,” he implores. “Make me understand, Henley, because I’m standing here right now trying to make sense of what you’re saying.”
I’m certain that nothing I say at this point will make him understand. Hell, I don’t even understand what I’m trying to get across. “I’ve spent so long being stuffed into someone else’s pocket. Mom and Dad. Then you. Then just Mom. I feel like a broken bird afraid to fly. I had these illustrious dreams of traveling the world and finding somewhere to belong,” I explain. “But when crunch time came, Brooks, Icame apart.”
“That’s understandable.”
The weather is frigid, but my body is covered in a sheen of sweat. Cold dampness coats my skin under the layers of clothing. His understanding is superfluous. He should be mad at me and call me out for being a despicable person.
Why does he do this? Why does he work to see me as a better person than I actually am?
“I’m not saying it’s silly or wrong,” I assure him. “But I want to be confident in myself.Bymyself.”
If I’d grown two heads, he’d likely look at me the way he is right now.
“You’re with what’s-his-name.”
“Aaron,” I whisper, feeling awful at even saying his name aloud at this point.
For him.
For Brooks.
“Aaron,” he echoes callously.
“He’s someone new,” I admit shamefully. “He’s not a security blanket. He’s a part of a journey of me finding myself.”
The upper line of his lip curls upward, the lust held in his eyes only minutes ago, gone, erased like it never existed, replaced with a void that frightens me. “Doing that through cock now, hey? I thought it was all about this.” He stretches his arms out. “Fresh air, the grass between your toes, and adventure.”
The stab of his words breaks at the way my heart beats, forcing it to stumble in my chest. “That was uncalled for.”
Stepping into me, he leans down, bringing us nose to nose. “I don’t understand who you are right now.”
I can feel my tears as they slide down my cheeks. “That’s what I’m trying to say,” I cry. “Neither do I.”
Lifting his camera, he takes a photo of me.
“Stop it,” I sob, turning my face away before he can take another photo.
“Am I just supposed to wait for you?” he all but spits. “Hang around while you fuck other men so you canfindyourself?”
“You’re being horrible.”
He shrugs. “It seems promises don’t even need to be vocalized. You told me you loved me once upon a time, and I stupidly believed you.” He barks out a sinister laugh. “Told you it’d only break my heart.”
18
BROOKS
AGE 22 (THREE YEARS LATER)
“What areyou working on at the moment?”
Handing over the change for my coffee, I smile my thanks.
“A shoot for a lingerie campaign.”
Addy’s amused laughter sings through the line. “Oh, poor Brooks. Sounds like a hardship.”
