Текст книги "Forgive Us Our Trespasses"
Автор книги: M. L. Steinbrunn
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Friday Morning
Vivian
Nauseous. Every time I get my stomach under control, Brooks will call or text or the kids will ask if I’m getting excited for Brook’s surprise, and the churning will return. The first snow of the season has finally moved in, and the backyard looks similar to how my heart feels–empty, blank, cold, and sad. For the last week, I’ve done well avoiding him, but it’s been exhausting. I miss him. I don’t know if that makes me weak, or stupid, or just in love, but after everything, I still just miss him.
I’ve tried diving into writing assignments to distract myself, but every article I try to write ends up turning into a soapbox about honesty, or about whether or not love is enough. Well, you get the idea, and needless to say, it had nothing to do with the product that I was supposed to be reviewing, and none of it would impress my editor.
I’ve made it to Friday, and I’m supposed to be having a girls’ night out, but I’m not in the mood to drink and then cry in public, because I know that is what the night will turn into. Amanda has been home for a few days, but I haven’t told her anything about Brooks, just that he and I were going to slow things down and spend a little time apart. I’m having a hard time admitting to myself, let alone anyone else, that it might be completely over.
The pulsing of my phone pulls me from my pit of misery. I slowly peek at the screen, hoping that it’s not from Brooks, again. When I see Jen’s name appear in the message box, I’m relieved but surprisingly disappointed too.
Jen: I hope u drank plenty of water today. Us bitches are going 2 tear it up tonight!! Plus I have an extra surprise 4 u!
I let out a groan. Just as I suspected, a liquored-up evening of embarrassing body bouncing that will ultimately end with me sobbing about how Brooks has let me down again. If there’s enough tequila involved throughout the evening, it might even include a cab ride to Brooks’ house so Jen can skewer his balls. She always follows through.
Me: I don’t really feel like it tonight, rain check.
Jen: Oh, hell no! Not happening…I will be over at 5. Get ur ass in the shower. I can smell ur skank from here.
I scrunch my nose at the word skank as my eyes pass over it. I love her to death, but damn if she isn’t the most uncouth 28-year-old professional woman I know.
Me: OMG, did you just really call me skanky! I am a mom for fuck’s sake.
Jen: What can I say? I’m a straight shooter lol. JK. Start getting ready. I’ll be over soon. U R GOING!
Me: Grrrr
Jen: Shut it. I’ll bring clothes from the shoot today. Mom jeans or yoga pants are not approved attire for the evening. I’m taking u somewhere fun tonight!
Me: Mom jeans? Really?
Jen: Well like u said, ur a mom for fuck’s sake. LMAO!
Me: Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Ttyl.
Jen: Bye muffin (without the top) hehehe.
Letting out a giggle, I turn in my desk chair and toss my phone on my bed just as I hear the front door open. Amanda is home from picking up the kids from school, and their voices echo up the stairs. Raising my arms above my head, I stretch, letting my tired muscles burn. The stress of the situation is wearing on me. Maybe a girls’ night would loosen the tension that’s taking over my body.
After sliding on my slippers and adjusting my greasy–yes, I said greasy–ponytail, I adjust my sweatpants and tee shirt to go downstairs and greet the kids. Reflecting on my attire, maybe Jen had a point; I am one pathetic mess at the moment. She probably could smell me from the other side of the suburb. I smell my armpit, hoping for the scent of the deodorant that promised miracles. I pull away quickly from the detonation zone after catching the stench of my own wretched body odor. Yup, I’m an embarrassing disarray of a woman.
I spritz some body spray on, hoping to mask my obvious post-breakup meltdown, and then I head down the hall to find everyone. Just as I reach the top of the stairs, their conversation becomes clearer, forcing my body to halt. My feet refuse to take another step forward.
“So Brooks asked you guys for permission?” I hear Amanda ask.
“Yeah, he said he loves Mom and us, and wants us all to be a family. So he asked if it was okay if he married her,” Blake answered.
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth in disbelief. I knew we were serious; we both wanted to move forward. But after finding out the truth, I’m shocked that he would even consider making us a family without sharing his secret with me. It would have been a surprise, and I would struggle dealing with the ramifications, including what my family would say, but I would have never judged him for it. I just wish he could have trusted me enough to know that.
“He showed us the ring and everything, Aunt Manda!” Emma squeals. “It’s sooo pretty, and he said Grace and I will get to wear princess dresses and throw flowers at people.”
“You mean you two get to be the flower girls,” Amanda laughs.
“Yes!” she shouts. But then I hear Blake shush her.
“Quiet, it’s a surprise, remember? Mom isn’t supposed to find out. He’s going to ask her next weekend when they go on a special trip. Then we can all talk about it. Okay, Em?”
“Okay, my lips are sealed.” I picture her doing her special lip-zipper move and throwing away the key. She means well, but Emma has never been able to keep a secret. She is a blabbermouth in training. We can never tell her what anyone is getting for their birthday or Christmas because she always lets it slip.
Unable to hear any more of this gutting conversation, I try to make as much noise as possible as I march down the stairs so they’ll quickly end their discussion.
True to her word, Jen shows up with her arms filled with dresses and accessories for our girls’ night on the town. She pokes and prods, pins and fluffs until she feels I’m presentable. I feel like I’m doing an excellent job of masking my misery; hell, I’m used to it by now. For the last week, I would put on the ‘everything is fine’ show for Amanda and the kids, but as soon as they left, I would fall apart and spend the day soaking in my gloom.
However, as I sink onto the cool barstool at the bar she has dragged us all to, I see her glaring at me, and I know my façade has been discovered. I order a pink moscato, which surprisingly, Jen doesn’t protest, but when she says nothing when Carly orders an ice water, I know some kind of inquisition is shooting my way.
Deflecting, I grab my drink and swing in my stool to look out to the sea of twenty-somethings chatting and laughing, letting off steam after what I imagine was a stressful work week. I only wish work was why I was tense.
“So, what is the surprise that you told me you just had to share with us, and was so important we all had to dress-up and come out for?” I ask as I click my four-inch, probably $400 heels together, which she brought over from her photo-shoot.
“You’ll see soon, and by the way, I realize something is up with you, but you don’t need to take it out on the shoes. Those are Manolo fucking Blahniks for Christ’s sake; have some respect.”
I stop my leg swinging and hold up my hands as a sign of surrender. “Sorry, I’m just anxious for your surprise,” I lie.
“Seriously, what is going on, Jen? We’ve had this girls’ night planned for a while, but I was thinking Sushi and a movie, maybe spice things up with a little Sake and some flirting with the Hibachi chef. I don’t think anyone was thinking miniskirts, booze, and heels. So let us in on the big deal here.”
Before she can answer, Jen lets out a bellowing screech that attracts the attention of all nearby patrons. I cover my ears, and then I watch as she sprints from our group toward the masses of people. People part as she approaches, until she finds her target, and is pulled into an embrace. I still can’t see who is meant to be are fourth wheel for the evening, and Carly and I look to each other for the answer. We both come up blank until Jen pulls away from our mystery guest and begins walking back to us.
“Oh, my God, that is Campbell!” Carly shouts and runs towards Jen and our old roommate. She is bouncing up and down like a teenage girl who’s just seen her favorite boy band member. Neither Jen nor Campbell joins in her bouncing; instead, they just grin and absorb her excitement.
I hop off my chair and follow her, happy to see my old friend, but nowhere near Carly’s overabundance of enthusiasm. I haven’t seen her since mine and Will’s wedding, when the band that she was promoting played for the reception.
Cam’s long black hair hits halfway down her back and her honey brown eyes make her pale skin even more pronounced. She is stunning; there is no other way to describe her. My Goth friend went and got all grown-up and gorgeous. She was always the girl that hung with the bands, wore torn, faded jeans, and the t-shirt of the band she was hanging with. Oddly enough, she never dated anyone in the bands, she just loved the music. And if she loved their sound, as she called it, then she promoted them like crazy. In college, she was constantly dragging us to shows and making us hand out show flyers around campus. Last time I heard, she was promoting and managing the publicity for several different bands.
I smile and start to say hello, but Campbell pulls me into her tightly and gives me a huge hug, which is very out of character for her. Growing up in foster care, Cam never had the affection most of us take for granted. She never shared stories with me about the different homes she had been in; but she did with Jen, and from what I came to understand was that things happened to her growing up, making her very uncomfortable with affection. So this hug is something to not take lightly.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for the funeral, Viv. I loved Will like a brother. He took care of all of us when we needed it.” She whispers her sentiments low enough not to bring attention to the others, but her words sting my heart. I’ve moved on from the love that I lost, but the reminder still hurts, and it’s not something I think I will ever fully get over.
“Thank you, Cam. We are doing okay. It took time, but I’ve been able to move on, and I can finally say that I’m all right. Thank you for that, though. Will was a good man, the best of men.”
She pats my back, and we all turn to make our way back to our seats at the bar. We take our seats and immediately inundate Campbell with questions about what she has been doing, where she has been travelling, and what bands she’s been with. She can barely keep up with our rapid fire.
“I can’t believe you kept this a secret!” Carly shouts over the noise of the growing crowd, pointing at Jen like she might climb the bar.
“Cam’s band is playing here, and I just found out like two days ago, so I thought it would be a fun surprise. Besides, it’s not the only little-something in store for this evening.”
“Well, I don’t think anything can top Cam being here,” I say, clinking my glass with Cam’s.
“Surprise number two should be here anytime, so drink up ladies; this is going to be a group affair tonight!”
“Group affair?” Carly asks.
“Yeah, you didn’t think you got dressed up for me, did you? I got you hot-to-trot for your men-folk. They should be here any minute. Amanda is watching everyone’s children, even your little demonling, Carly. I’m getting my girls drunk and laid! Woohoo!” she yells.
My smile fades as her words sink in–Brooks has been invited out with us. I only hope that he has decided to stay away. The last thing I want is to see him tonight. I quickly plaster my fake smile into place, unwilling to call attention to my unease.
I glance over at Carly who is gleaming with anticipation. Apparently, this is one of the few date nights she and Jack have had in the two years since Olivia was born. I don’t want to ruin her night, but I’m still angry at Brooks, and I don’t think I could contain my anger like I did the last time I saw him. Her eyes light up and I follow her line of sight to see Jack come through the front doors. I feel myself holding my breath waiting to see Brooks just behind him, and relief washes over me when I see Jack is alone.
Just when I think I’ve caught my bearings, I hear the tap, tap on the microphone. Everyone in the bar directs their attention to the darkened stage, and my heart plummets into my stomach when I see the spotlights shine down on Brooks standing center stage, gripping onto the mic.
“I know you are all here to see Absolution, and they will be out in just a second to give you guys an awesome show, but they allowed me to steal the stage for a minute,” Brooks announces, and the crowd greets him with groans and boos.
“There is someone special here tonight, and I’ve asked the band to sing a special song just for her.” The drunken partygoers break into applause as I mumble curse words under my breath. I look to Jen, who is hardly able to contain her shit-eating grin, and then Carly, who has lost all focus and is making out with Jack like the sex-depraved parents I’m sure they are.
“You see, guys, I had the most amazing woman in the world, but I lost her. I lied to her, and hid something from her. I’m standing up here tonight to let her know I’m not running anymore. I’m not going anywhere this time. Vivian, I’m sorry for everything. You are my forever, and I meant every word of that. I only hope that you let me prove it.”
Everyone erupts into cheers as he jumps off the stage and the band begins to play. The smooth guitar melody sweeps through the buzzing atmosphere. When the lead singer finally lets out the first notes of the hypnotic love song, the crowd screams and then sways with the rhythm of the music. I don’t allow myself to be pulled into the soothing lyrics or overwhelming beats of the song. Instead, I focus on my embarrassment. Not only do my friends now know that something has happened between Brooks and me, he has presented our dirty laundry to every drunken patron of the bar. I’m sure every other girl in the world would be impressed and taken aback by the grand gesture. But as much as I love this man, I’m too hurt and pissed to care about this public announcement.
When the house lights darken, I lose Brooks in the crowd; I know he’s headed my way, and my emotions are telling me to do so many different things, I feel like I’m being torn apart. The confusion on the faces of my friends does nothing to help my plagued psyche. All I know is I need to find Brooks before he finds me. I refuse to sit at a table for the duration of the evening with him pretending like his scene made everything better.
“What the fuck was that?” Jen asks as I hop off my barstool, scanning the crowd for Brooks.
Ignoring her question, I drain the last bit of my glass of wine and move away from the bar. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a second.”
I don’t make it very far before I run into the strong, toned chest that I have spent many nights snuggled up against. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the crown of my head. I desperately want to melt into him, but I don’t let myself. I have forever been that weak girl that didn’t think she deserved this relationship, but I now know I deserve better than a relationship where honesty is not a priority. I can’t just forget his betrayal and sweep this all under the rug.
I move out of his strong arms and step away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Vivian, give me a chance to explain everything. I pushed you away last time and it was such a huge mistake.” I see the torment in his eyes pleading for forgiveness, but as much as I want to give it, I don’t have the strength yet to overcome his betrayal.
“I can’t right now, Brooks. This is not the time, nor the place for this conversation.” I look around, noticing the crowd that was once focused on us has since gone back to their conversations; well, except for our friends, who are intently trying to listen to our confrontation. “I can’t believe that you did this in front of everyone like this,” I say in a loud, stern whisper as I duck my eyes away from our silent audience and back to Brooks. “I’m not ready to see you, Brooks, please just go.”
A look of determination sweeps across his face, and I notice his hands ball into fists. “No. I’m not leaving. I realize that I hid from you; I know that I fucked things up not once, but twice.” His voice begins to rise in decibel level with each word, and I feel the eyes around us begin to take notice of our situation. I feel my face heat up in both anger and embarrassment. Never have I ever had a public fight, and I feel that I am cornered into having one. I feel the tears stinging my eyes as I let them scan faces around the bar, the floor, the ceiling–any place other than Brooks’ eyes.
“Look at me, Vivian,” he shouts, bringing my attention to his sapphire orbs. “Every day I regret what I did to hurt you, but you are making the same mistake now. I can’t be without you again. We belong together. Don’t walk away from me, from us.”
My blood boils with his insinuation that our separation is somehow my fault, and my temper rises to the surface. My hands shake, and my breathing hitches with words that are stuck in my constricting throat. When he reaches for me again, I unleash every emotion that I had been struggling to hold at bay.
“You fucking lied to me!” I scream, shoving him away from me. My face is streaked with tears, but this time I let them fall, the salty drops occasionally slipping into my mouth, the taste only serving as a reminder of the pain he has caused. “I let myself fall in love with you not once, but twice, and both times you proved to be disloyal.” Finally gaining control of my voice, I step towards Brooks, jabbing my finger into his muscled chest. “You know what, Brooks? You’re right. I did make a mistake in regard to you. My error is not in walking away from you now, it was with ever trusting you with my heart in the first place.” Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes to avoid the hurt that I’m causing. I take a step back. “Please leave,” I exhale.
I stand frozen, feet planted, eyes tightly shut. I feel Brooks kiss my forehead, and then nothing. I know before I open my eyes that I’m alone. My gut twists into knots when I open my eyes to see that Brooks did as I asked and left the bar.
I forcefully wipe the remainder of tears from my rosy cheeks and head to the bar. I bypass every questioning pair of eyes and head directly to the bartender, the only man here that I actually want to see. I knew this evening would end with liquor and tears; I just didn’t figure on it happening so soon. The handsome young man behind the bar rushes to take my order, surprisingly remembering that I had ordered wine before.
“Another moscato, doll?” He pauses for a second, taking in my appearance and then shakes his head. “May I suggest something a little stronger?”
“Yes, please,” I say, nodding while attempting to fix the smeared mascara that I’m sure is plastered and smudged under my eyes–waterproof, my ass.
The bartender turns to make my potent mystery concoction of future inebriated bliss, but pauses and turns back to the disheveled mess before him. “For what it’s worth, he’s obviously an ass,” he says, leaning across the bar in my direction so that his words are only for me. “And let me add that you look like one hell of a woman, and any guy that has the balls to make you cry should have them removed.”
I let out a half-snort half-laugh and pat his hand. “Thank you, I needed that. Remind me to introduce you to my friend Jen. I think you two would get along great. One of her favorite pastimes is to threaten to damage the jewels of every breathing man.”
“Well, if it’s warranted,” he laughs before returning to my drink.
When he places the glass filled to the brim with electric green alcohol that looks like something out of Blake’s Ninja Turtle movies in front of me, I chug it down without a word, letting the burn of it slide down my throat until the fire spreads through my chest. I cough and gasp for breath, and I fan myself, trying to ease the burn. I finally get myself under control and give him the signal for another.
“I think that should do the trick, love, but I figured you might want something else, so I made you something to chase it, but drink it slowly.”
I grab the fruity-looking drink from the bar and take a sip. It is strong but delicious. I reach for my purse, but he reaches for my hand. “This was on me. I’ll just call it my good deed for the day,” he says with a smile.
“Thank you,” I say, and when he nods and turns away from me, I slip a twenty across the bar and under his order book. I figure the kid brightened my dreary night; I can at least leave him a decent tip. I take one last guzzle of my frilly drink and head toward the firing squad waiting for me.
Deer in headlights…that is the best way to describe the expressions staring back at me. I throw myself down onto the empty chair and glance around the table at a sea of purely-dumbfounded gazes. To their credit, they remain silent, letting me down more of my liquid courage before having to address our overly curious group.
I see Jen’s leg bouncing violently under the table, and I know my reprieve is quickly dissipating. Swallowing one last gulp, I neatly place my drink on the table, square my shoulders, and let the alcohol takeover.
“I found out his secret. I know now why he did everything he did in college.” I throw it out there so matter-of-factly that the looks of confusion remain in place.
“Babe, we are going to need a little more than that,” Jen coddles. I can tell she is barely able to contain herself though; her fingers are hastily tapping on the tabletop, a sign of her impatience.
I clear my throat and wiggle in my chair; the heat of the situation is causing me to sweat, and my comfort level is now at DEFCON 5. I wipe the moisture from my hands on a napkin on the table, and I begin to tear it into little shreds.
“You’re killing us here; tell us the fucking story already!” We all turn to look at Carly, whose out-of-character outburst has taken us all by surprise. Her eyes widen, and her hand flies to her mouth to cover the verbal eruption. She slowly uncovers her lips and looks around the table, searching for forgiveness. “I just mean,” she stutters, “I…we are dying to find out what this is all about. Please stop stalling, and tell us what happened. We thought you guys had moved past everything and the relationship was good. We were all putting bets in on when you guys were getting engaged.”
“Well, you can hang on to your Benjamins, ladies; I think this relationship might just be O-V-E-R.” I attempt to be nonchalant, but saying the words aloud slaps me in the face, and I feel the pain of its finality. As much as his dishonesty has injured me, I don’t think I can really let him go.
Jen waves her hand, urging me to continue and clarify. I take another swig to numb my bruised heart, and inhale deeply to prepare for the next part of the story.
“You all know that my father was killed when I was a little girl, right?” Everyone nods, but Jen scowls; the lines between her brows deepen and her lips purse.
“Brooks’ dad was the one that killed him. He’s known since college, but never told me. Instead, he disappeared. This time, I guess he thought he could just keep it from me. But when his father showed up on his doorstep when I was there, his secret spilled out.”
“That piece of shit!” Jen blurts out. “Get the supplies; it’s ball-busting time!”
“Everyone, just calm down,” I snip. “I don’t think we need to go to that extreme.”
“I don’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell you. I get that the situation sucked in every way, but why would he hide it? Especially if he wanted to marry you?”
“I have no idea. Maybe he thought I’m too stupid to figure it out on my own, or maybe he thought I would never cross paths with Raymond Michaels, so it would never come up. Really, who knows? To be honest, I’m not sure I want to know at this point.”
All of the previous confusion fades and a mixture of emotions stares back at me. Jen is obviously angry and ready for blood. She would defend me until the day I die, whether I was in the right or not, and I’m so thankful for a friend like her. Carly just looks sad; you would think I ran over her dog or something. She looks as crushed as I feel, and the sympathy is pouring out of her.
Campbell, on the other hand, has been very silent. I’m sure that Jen caught her up on all of the drama while it played out in front of her, so there is no need to go through the back-story with her. She has always been the down-to-Earth, call-it-like-she-sees-it friend, who told you how it was, even if it meant that you were wrong or made you feel like shit. Love it or hate it about her, she always meant well. We are the only family she really has, and we love her like a sister. Her silence means she is overanalyzing the situation, and I’m probably not going to like her conclusion.
“Okay, Cam, give it to me,” I sigh. “I know the gears in that head of yours are cranking, so give it to me.”
She hesitates, which only makes me scoot farther towards the edge of my seat. She still hasn’t said anything to me, only given me a half-hearted smile, which is Campbell code for, ‘you don’t want to hear what I’m going to say.’
“Oh, shit, that bad? Just spit it out already,” Jen interrupts. I pin Jen with my eyes, silently scolding her for the interruption.
“Sorry,” she mumbles and looks down at the table.
“Look, I’m not sure I know the whole story here. It’s been a long time since there was ever a ‘you and Brooks’. After you were over, you planned your forever with Will, so this is all a little overwhelming for me.”
I’m taken off-guard by the direction of her speech, and all I can manage is a slight nod.
“No one ever would have thought that Will would die so young or that Brooks would enter your life again so soon after, but here you are widowed and in love with the man you–we all–swore to hate.”
I adjust on the chair, ready to defend him, but she holds her hand up to stop my interjection. I’m not even sure what I would really say. What he’s done is not something to defend, but I don’t like the idea of people hating him, either. I certainly don’t hate him, angry with him, yes. If I’m being honest with myself, I still love the prick. But that doesn’t mean that I can pretend like he didn’t lie to me.
“Viv, I’ve never shared a lot about my childhood with you guys. Jen probably knows the most, and even that is not a lot. Does that mean that I lied to you?”
“No, of course not. Those are your stories to share, and we would never make you feel like you had to tell us anything.” I grab her hand, reassuring her of my feelings about her, and the horrible life she had bouncing around the foster care system.
“I had some great fosters, and some monsters for fosters, but the thing about it is, I could control none of those situations. Some of the children of those monsters were the very ones that protected me from being hurt worse. It was what I endured, and am I proud of some of the things that happened? No. Do I tell people everything that happened to me? No. That doesn’t make me a liar; it makes me human.”
“Of course, Cam, we love you. You’re like a sister to us, and we would never think differently of you because of what happened when you were younger. If you didn’t tell us, you had your reasons,” I add.
“Campbell, hun, what does this have to do with Brooks?” Carly asks.
Campbell huffs with annoyance at our slow uptake. “Seriously, guys, you don’t see where I’m going with this?”
We all shake our heads.
“Well, no fucking wonder you are in the position you’re in,” she sighs, which completely pisses me off. I knew I wasn’t going to like this conversation, but damn.
“I knew it ten years ago, and I know it now. Brooks loves you, Vivian. That man would do anything in his power to protect you, even if it means hiding something from you in order to keep you from being hurt. Brooks didn’t tell you about his biological father because he wanted to guard you from the pain of knowing the truth that he struggled with. Right or wrong, his biggest fear is that you would judge him for something that he has no control over. When you found out, you ran; you proved every one of those fears correct.”
Well, shit. That just makes me feel like a big piece of judgmental crap. Will always told me how important it was to consider the perspective of the other person and sometimes a person needs to judge the intention and not the action to understand a situation. This is a prime example, and I utterly failed.
“Damn you, Campbell,” I say, finishing off my drink. “It was easier to just be mad at him.”
She laughs and finally picks up her neglected gin and tonic to take a small sip. It’s a rarity to see Campbell drink; she usually orders a gin and tonic, but then nurses it all night long. It’s her way of being with all of us without drinking, which is something that makes her a little uncomfortable. I’ve never seen her intoxicated.
“So you see, hun,” she says, placing the full drink back on the table. “Brooks didn’t tell you because he thought it would change how you feel about him. It’s the same reason why I don’t share my past with people. He wanted you two to have a happily ever after, and you knowing the truth could prevent that.”
“Still, I think he should have told her,” Carly adds. “How do you have a relationship without being completely honest with the other person? That doesn’t seem fair.”
Carly’s thoughts were exactly where I was at before this conversation. Campbell was right. Brooks was just trying to protect both of our hearts. His tattoo is all about seeking forgiveness, and all this time I figured it was only about the faking-cheating-disappearing act he put together in college. Really, it’s more than that. It’s about me forgiving who he is; it’s about me accepting him, even with the father that he has. This entire time he has been silently begging me to save him, but instead, I let him drown.
Well, fuck that. I’m done being the weak one. It’s time for a grown-up Vivian; one that will eat alone at a restaurant, one that will finally confront the man that killed her father, and one that won’t quietly let this relationship slip through her fingers. If Brooks needs a life preserver, I’m going to bring the whole damned Armada.
