“I don’t get it, Brooke. It wasn’t like the man was around for you growing up. I don’t know why you bother.”
Her backbone stiffened. He wasn’t wrong. She hated him for pointing that out. “It isn’t for you to understand. You either support me and my decisions or you don’t.”
For several moments they stared at each other. Her expression neutral. His blank.
Finally, Marshall set his glass in the sink and left the kitchen without any further words.
She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowed the hurt that pooled in the back of her throat, and typed in her airline of choice.
“I can take you to the airport.”
Marshall stood at the door while Brooke rolled both suitcases from the bedroom and hiked her massive purse on her shoulder. “Carmen is picking me up.”
Brooke had booked the flight, slept the rest of the night on the couch, and all but ignored Marshall as she packed.
“You’re mad.”
“I’m hurt. There’s a difference.”
“Babe . . .” He placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.
“No. Don’t.”
He dropped his hand.
“I’m sorry.”
She paused. “For what?”
“That you’re mad.” He quickly corrected, “Hurt. That I hurt you.”
She rolled her eyes and reached for the door.
“Brooke.”
“I have to go.”
“Those are big suitcases.”
She’d packed as much as she could fit in the luggage she had. The last time, she’d been caught unprepared and needed to buy clothes. That wouldn’t happen again. “Are you afraid I won’t be back?”
“Yes.”
The look in his eyes said he wasn’t lying.
“Good. I might not.”
Marshall’s jaw dropped.
“What? Really?”
Her heart raced in her chest and her pulse soared as she spoke. “Last night I needed the man in my life to put his arms around me and ask if I was okay. I needed him to see if there was something he could do to make things better. All I got was a whiny kid that was mad that I was screwing up his vacation.”
Marshall recoiled. He was three years her junior, something they’d joked about in the past, yet his lack of maturity seemed to be playing a role now. “I guess I deserve that.”
She started past him and he grabbed one of her suitcases. “At least let me help you out.”
Without argument, she allowed him.
Carmen had her car parked in the red zone with the engine running.
Her best friend jumped from the driver’s seat and rounded to the back of the car. “Perfect timing,” Carmen said.
Marshall hoisted both bags into the trunk and closed it before standing back.
He looked at Brooke and she stepped out of his orbit . . . making it clear she wanted nothing to do with any goodbye hugs, kisses, or promises. The restless night on the couch reminded her of those she’d had during her father’s rehabilitation. She knew that the days with her dad were likely numbered, and this was only an example of Marshall’s behavior around things he didn’t approve of. His lack of support before bothered her, now it crushed her.
He pushed his hands in his pockets. “Call me when you get there.”
She’d text at most.
Brooke offered a nod and opened the passenger door.
“See ya, Marshall,” Carmen said as she slid behind the wheel.
They pulled away from the curb.
Brooke glanced in the side mirror as Marshall watched them drive away.
“What was that all about?” Carmen asked.
“Marshall is a selfish ass.”
Carmen started to laugh and continued to until Brooke looked at her. “What?”
“You’re just now figuring that out?”
They turned the corner and Marshall disappeared from sight. Brooke focused her attention on the road in front of them. “I’m having second thoughts about him.”
Carmen glanced her way, then back to the road. “You’re serious.”
Not trusting herself to speak, Brooke nodded.
They were silent for a full minute. “Do you want me to say something? I mean . . . I don’t want to say ‘I never liked the guy’ and then have you all in love with him next week and you mad at me. I don’t want to say ‘He’s the best guy for you’ and you break up and you hate me.”
Brooke closed her eyes, turned her head toward the passing cityscape of Seattle as they made their way onto the freeway en route to the airport. “I won’t hate you for being honest with me.”
Her friend took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Are you sure? I don’t want—”
“I’m sure, Carmen. Give me your gut feeling without censoring. Even if I don’t want to hear it.”
Carmen tightened her grip on the steering wheel, licked her lips . . . and Brooke knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth.
“He made you happy . . . the first year. Well, the first six to eight months.”
Before her father had his stroke.
“You haven’t been happy since. He convinced you that you don’t need the fairy tale.”
“I don’t.”
Carmen looked over. “Yes. You do.”
Her friend was wrong about that, but her heart was in the right place.
“Marshall isn’t the guy for you. He’s young, selfish, and can’t commit to a dog let alone a wife or children.” Carmen sucked in a sharp breath. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” The loss of that time wasn’t something Brooke liked to think about . . . ever.
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry, Brooke.”
Too much loss . . . too many emotions swam in the back of her throat.
She needed to change the subject. Fast.
Carmen reached out and placed her hand over Brooke’s. “You need a man who wouldn’t dare let you go to your father alone. He wouldn’t question your relationship. He’d simply be there and hold your hand because you needed it. You don’t deserve anything less, Brooke. That’s all I’m saying. If you think that’s Marshall, then fine. I don’t think it is. And as long as you have him in your life, the other guy isn’t going to show up.”
The tears that had threatened all night and all morning finally pooled and started to spill.
Carmen voiced so many things that Brooke had said to herself. Not the stuff about the next guy. She didn’t give two thoughts about the next guy . . . At the very least Marshall should have cared about how she felt.
He didn’t.
“I can fly down.” Carmen’s voice was soft.
“Ben?”
“I have a husband . . . he’s capable of taking care of our son. If my friend needs me, I’m there. Say the word.”
Brooke squeezed Carmen’s hand. “I’ll pull that card if I need it.”
They turned into the departing terminal at Sea-Tac Airport and climbed out of the car. After retrieving her luggage from the trunk, they hugged. “Thank you . . . for the ride. And your honesty.”
“Don’t hate me tomorrow if you change your mind.”
“I won’t. Love you.”