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God, I’m glad they didn’t end up getting married. And not just for my own selfish reasons. David is a fucking asshole—more than Brooke will ever know.
“Thanks for helping me,” she says as I enter the garage, bags in tow. She’s holding a box that’s almost as big as she is, leaning back to balance the weight.
“You sure you got that?”
“Of course I do,” she huffs, making her way to the back of the garage. She manages the couple of steps that lead into the house. But when she tries to balance the box in one hand, fumbling with her keys in the other, I grimace.
She always tries to take on more than she can handle, and it rarely goes her way.
“Let me,” I say, moving the bags I’m holding to one arm. With the other, I take her keys and unlock the door.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, snatching her keys back. Her shoulders have tensed up, and I can’t help but notice how quickly she darts into the house.
With a sigh, I follow her. I don’t think there’s been a day in my life that I didn’t want her. Hell, I would’ve had her, if it hadn’t been for Alex making me promise to wait until she graduated from college.
Of course, David swooped in and stole her heart. It hurt like hell, but I made it be enough. Just as long as my Daisy was happy and I was still in her life somehow. I still wanted her, still do want her. Even though she broke my heart and abandoned our friendship—abandoned me—like I meant nothing to her.
When she broke up with David, for a split second I thought I had a chance. But in reality, I’d already sabotaged my only chance by agreeing to help a friend. Charlie deserves it, sure. But getting married to anyone other than Brooke was never a part of my plan.
Hell, Charlie marrying me was never part of her plan.
Yet here we are.
Now, being around Brooke, knowing she could be mine, but not being able to touch her—goddamn, it’s been hard. It doesn’t help that every time I see her, she’s not even there—just a shell of a person, hollowed out by men who didn’t even want her.
I step through the little mudroom by the garage and into the kitchen, just to stop in my tracks. “Oh.”
Hoisting her box onto a counter, Brooke lets out a breath before turning to me. “What? Oh—oh.”
I take in the open kitchen and the living room beyond that. Everything that made this house a home is gone. Every single trace of Brooke has been wiped away completely.
Instead of colorful accent walls popping out and paintings Brooke personally picked out on the walls, there’s... nothing left that made this place Brooke’s.
Not even pictures of her and Alex are left. No plants. And no suncatchers dangling in the windows, casting rainbows everywhere.
Instead, the walls have been painted back to white and gray. There are a few generic decorations. Even the furniture is different—cold and masculine. Not Brooke’s style at all.
“Are you planning on selling?” I set the bags on the floor, trying to cover up my shock. Don’t be rude.
Brooke’s eyes widen. “What? No! I love this place. It just—” She pauses, as if she doesn’t want to say what she’s thinking.
And that’s when it hits me.
Brooke would never decorate a house like this. So cold and unfeeling. It’s the exact opposite of who she is.
And only one other person has ever lived with her here.
“David did this.” My voice is dark as my fists clench at my sides. How the fuck could he do this to her? The way everything is done up is so Francis-like it makes me sick.
“He didn’t like the way I decorated.” Brooke is fiddling with the hem of her dress, staring at the floor. “Said it was distasteful and inelegant. He kept complaining about it every day after he moved in, and I just—” She stops herself. “It doesn’t matter. I can redo it.”
When Brooke first started dating David, all she did was gush about how amazing and supportive he was. But after a while—somewhere between the six month and year mark of their relationship—things changed.
She stopped talking about him as much. Started dressing differently. And then, eventually, she wouldn’t let me inside her house.
Now I see why.
Ever since I first saw Brooke change herself for David, there’s been a ball of anger burning in my chest. It’s grown over the years, and now that she’s left him, I thought it would get smaller.
