Page 53 of Clubs

We had only just crossed the threshold when she muttered, “I don’t feel good.”

I could already hear her stomach gurgling, so I hurriedly grabbed the trashcan by the entryway and held it out beneath her. Somehow, managing to do so without her vomiting all over me. Had to give her credit, her aim was good. Granted, there was puke through her hair now, but she didn’t make a mess on my floor, and I was grateful for that.

I helped her onto a chair, holding the trash bin the whole time. Between dry heaves, she apologized again and again. With each one, I told her it was okay. Maybe it should’ve been me with my head in the trashcan, given the fact that I was the one being accused of murder, but I got it. It wasn’t her fault, but she thought it was.

“I know what Ria did has nothing to do with you,” I said, tucking some hair behind her ear. Ignored the vomit that got on my fingers. “It’s alright. Let’s just get you feeling better, okay?”

Resting her head in my hand, letting me cradle her face, she shook her head. “Not that. That too, I guess, but not that.”

“Then what are you apologizing for, sweetheart?”

“Sucking at this.” Her voice was hardly audible. But there was no denying it now. There were tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like. I don’t know how to be in one. I don’t know how to be a good partner. I don’t know how to show you how much you matter. Because you do. You and Ria, you’re all that matter to me. I’m sorry I’m such a bitch, and I’m sorry I don’t know how to love you. Not the right way. But I do. I do love you.”

A fire kindled in my chest. Warm and cozy, like cuddling up beside one on a winter night after trekking through the snow all day.

But before I could say anything, before I could tell her how much I appreciated hearing that, she was rambling again.

“That doesn’t mean anything. The words don’t mean anything. The last thing my mom said when she left was ‘I love you.’ Then she walked out, and I never saw her again.” Those tears dropped over in a waterfall. “So I don’t say it, because it doesn’t mean anything. Being there, being with you, sitting on the couch together, reading books, watching TV, those kinds of things. That matters. The words don’t mean anything. And I’m a librarian.” I couldn’t tell if she laughed or sobbed when she said that last bit. “I love words. But they’re pretend. They’re another universe. Another world. But they aren’t real.”

Lifting her fingers into my hair, reaching around the back of my neck, she tried to smile. It didn’t stop the tears, though. “This is real. I’m ruining it, but it’s real. I don’t how to fix it. I know I’m breaking it, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to leave, too. I want this to work. I don’t want to fight to make it work. I just want it to work, and I know it’s my fault. I know I’m why it doesn’t work. I know I’m fucking it up, but I just—”

A lurch cut her off. She bent over into the trashcan and hurled again, growling like a dinosaur into the bin.

While she puked, everything shifted. The world around me first, and then my entire perspective on this relationship.

It all made sense. Everything made sense now.

Before I fell for her, I knew what I was getting into. So how could I be surprised by any of this?

Shit, it hurt. I was hurt because I knew that she was hurting. And I knew that I hadn’t been helping.

Getting through Brooke’s walls required a bulldozer. Or, that was what I had thought, at least. But maybe half the issue here was me. Maybe instead of fighting with her all the time, maybe instead of making her feel like shit, making her terrified she would lose me, I needed a ladder. Rather than breaking through and shattering those walls apart, maybe I needed to climb over them. Maybe I needed to sit on the ledge for a while and look at her from the outside. Maybe I didn’t need to dive into the center of her heart right away. Maybe I needed to observe. Understand.

That memory, the one of her mom walking out, saying that she loved her as she did, was a piece of something I needed to see.

Granted, it wasn’t my fault she had failed to share that with me. But it wasn’t her obligation either. I was more open than she was, there was no denying that, but why did I feel entitled to her life story? That wasn’t my right.

This was. Holding her hair back as she puked. That was my right as the man who loved her. But forcing her to fall apart, to crumble, when I could just sit on the edge and observe was the safer way for both of us.

While she puked, I murmured a, “shh,” sound. I whispered that it was okay. And when she finally stopped, I lifted her chin to meet my gaze. She was still crying, and I wiped her tears away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Everyone says that,” she whispered. “But words don’t matter. Words aren’t real.”

“But this is.” Giving a smile, I cupped her cheek in my hand. “You don’t have to believe me. I know it’s gonna take a long time before you believe me. But you’re my world, Brooke. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Unless my sister gets you sent to jail.” Letting out another soft sob, which teetered on laughter, she shook her head. “She’s horrible. I love her, but she’s fucking horrible. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry she brought all this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t deserve what she puts you through either.” Normally, I wouldn’t say something like that. Ria was more than her little sister. She was practically Brooke’s kid. She bent over backwards every day to take care of her. I respected that, I loved her for that, but clearly, it was killing her. Doing everything that she did for Ria was killing Brooke. “What’d she do? Emory said she was why you got so drunk.”

“It’s her pimp. That’s why this all happened. They tried to kill him, and he killed Alicia, and now Ria is in the middle of it. To hurt her, they decided to fuck with her family. And I told her how stupid this was.” Lips curling, the tears came down in a storm again.

“I told her she’s ruining her life, and she’s an idiot, and she needs to get her shit together, because I don’t want to fucking bury her. I don’t want her to die. But she won’t listen. She just won’t fucking listen, and I know I’ll lose her, and she was right. Everything she said, she was right. I don’t know why you stick around either. I don’t know why you put up with me and all this shit. You could have anyone, and you choose me. And eventually, you’re gonna get sick of it. Just like I’m getting sick of her. And I don’t want to lose her, and I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t—I don’t—I don’t know what to do.” She was sobbing by the time she made it to that last sentence.

There was no relief this time. As much as I had wanted to see her vulnerable, as much as I appreciated that she was giving me that for the first time, this wasn’t what I wanted. Not for her to her feel like this. So broken. So torn.

I would never make her choose between Ria and me. But Ria did need to keep my name out of her mouth. Not only because my relationship with her sister was none of her damn business, but because she was wrong. And it was cruel.

I didn’t care what was said that led Ria to manipulate her that way, because it wasn’t relevant. Brooke did everything for that girl, and she spit in her face every time. She loved her, I knew she loved her, but she used the hell out of her.

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