He grinned when he saw me, and then his smile fell. “What’s wrong?”
I burst out crying again.
“Come here,” he said, pulling me into his arms and then into his room.
It took me over an hour and a full box of tissues before I’d been able to get the whole story out of how I’d ruined a good man’s life and alienated my father.
31
Maurice
There was no reason to leave the office, so I stayed. I stayed until my stomach revolted and decided it was time to eat. I checked my watch. Seven. No wonder the building was so quiet. I checked my phone for a message from Brooke, but I knew there wouldn’t be one. So, I stood, put on my coat, and exited my office. I left the building and headed to my car.
I promised Sinclair I’d wait until next week to resign, but I felt like I was on borrowed time. I’d rather have it over with than spend the next few days of my life in limbo. I started home, trying to decide if I wanted to stop for food or figure out something to make at home.
As I passed the inn, I saw Brooke’s car in the parking lot. Immediately, I slowed down. Had she left her father’s house? Why hadn’t she called me if she had? I pulled over and scanned the lot and building to find her. She was at a doorway that opened. Her friend Tucker stood there. A moment later, he wrapped her up in his arms.
I felt the mix of crushing pain in my chest and boiling rage. But then it all settled into resignation. Well, not
the pain. That was still there. But the truth was, she was better off with him for a multitude of reasons. Maybe the most important of which was that they were closer in age and would grow together, or apart, but they’d be in a similar place.
Me. I was settled in my ways. I had no goals except to run my ranch. Brooke was still young. Still finding herself. The woman she’d be in five years would be different from the woman she was now. In five years, I’d be her father’s age, and she’d still not even be thirty.
I knew from my marriage to Shelley the reality of how people change as they get older. She and I had been on the same road when we married, but as we got older, our dreams and goals changed. Brooke might think she wanted me now, but in a few years, as I turned gray or didn’t want to travel or whatever her dream might be, I’d only be holding her back. Like a Band-Aid, it was better to rip us apart now than to do it slowly over time. So, as much as it hurt to let her go, it had to be done.
I pulled back out into traffic and headed back to my place. As I neared the turn to my home, I nearly drove on. I could go to Lincoln, or even just drive east until I hit the Atlantic. There was nothing to go home to. But I had work to do in figuring out how I was going to repay the trust. I’d pack up Brooke’s things and see if maybe Sinclair would return them to her. But first, I’d pull out the old bottle of whiskey to see if I could drink enough to fill the hole in my chest. Or at the very least, numb the pain.
I sat in the driveway for a moment, wondering if there was anything else I could do. Or if there was something that I could have done differently. I suppose, if I’d been a better man four years ago and never allowed myself to touch Brooke, this whole mess could have been avoided. Although I couldn’t be sure that was true. If we still had done this fake marriage, I probably would have still desired her. It was difficult to be around Brooke and not be taken by her intellect, beauty, and kind heart.
Either I was stupid or unlucky, but either way, I was where I was, and I couldn’t change things in the past, and I was at a loss as to how to fix them moving forward.
I exited the car and was just opening the front door when lights came up behind me. I turned to see a car pulling in. My heart lurched to my throat, hoping it was Brooke. Maybe she’d chosen me, after all.
Jeannette stepped out of the car, and my heart dropped.
“Jeannette, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“You’re not returning your lawyer’s calls,” she said, coming up the steps. “We need to talk, Mo.”
I nodded. I couldn’t avoid her forever. “Come in. Are you hungry?”
“No. I ate with my family, and I thought I’d come out to see what was up with you.”
I led her to the kitchen. “Do you mind if I have something?”
“Not at all.” She sat at the table with a file as I quickly assembled a sandwich.
“Where’s your wife?” she asked.
I couldn’t decide if it was a trick question or not. It seemed to me she was here because she got wind that the marriage was going belly up. But I could be wrong.
“She’s at a friend’s place.” Maybe more than a friend, I thought as the image of Tucker once again putting his hands on Brooke flashed in my brain.
“Want something to drink?” I asked as I put my sandwich on the table.
“No. Thank you.”
I grabbed a beer from the fridge. Whiskey would have to wait. I sat and took a bite of my sandwich and waited.