Page 48 of Dreams on the Ice

“I haven’t abandoned anyone, Brook. They abandoned me a long time ago. They started all of this in some sort of backward attempt to control me. They don’t care about my happiness. They only care about their world and want to force me to fit into it. I don’t. I never have.”

Her eyes fill with tears. It doesn’t surprise me that she would feel deeply about this, about family. She is someone who loves her family. She doesn’t understand what a cold, controlling world is like. She’s never lived in it.

“What did my father offer you to break up with me? Now that I know he’s been offering money to people.”

She squares her shoulders, her eyes still filled with unshed tears, and then she leans forward, her words coming out in awhispered hiss, but the anger I feel coming from her isn’t aimed at me. It’s for my father.

“He told me to name my price, and I told him I wouldn’t take a penny, then I walked away.”

Pride. That is the sensation that fills my chest. Not that I thought she would ever entertain something like that, but at the same time, I know money makes people do shit that they would never normally do.

“Would your father offer me money to break up with you?” I ask.

The expression of horror that crosses her features tells me all I need to know. He wouldn’t. I don’t let her answer. Instead, I continue, ready to finish this conversation. I’m ready to take her home and show her how much I missed every single part of her. Head to toe.

“They abandoned me a long time ago, honey. This is the beginning of my new life, and I won’t move forward without you by my side.”

“Forrest,” she says, that one word coming out in a hiccup.

Sliding my hand from hers, I glide my fingers up her forearm and wrap them around her elbow, giving her a gentle squeeze while keeping my gaze focused on hers and nowhere else because there is nowhere else I would rather look.

“You and me, honey.”

BROOKLYNN

You and me.

Part of me thinks I should resist this, resist him, mainly because I know his parents are probably going to be a problemforever. They will likely never accept or like me. But then again, they don’t accept Forrest, so what does it matter?

Then there’s the way he’s looking at me. He’s always looked at me the same way, but for a long time, I couldn’t see that look for what it was. I wasn’t allowing myself to see him, in some sort of misguided effort not to rock the boat between lovers, friends, and neighbors. And he was the same.

I see him now.

All of him.

Not just the parts he allows me to see.

“I missed you, Forrest,” I confess. His lips twitch into a smirk, his eyes almost sparkling at my confession. “You beyond fixed things. I had to turn my phone off because of so many notifications from people. All supportive.”

He hums, releasing my elbow with another squeeze, then leans back in his chair, his body relaxing.

“I missed you more than you could know. But I can’t take you walking out like that again when shit gets tough. Because I can guarantee you, shit will get tough again.”

He’s right.

I messed up.

I was lost inside my own head and trying to save him, my friends, and, in a small way, myself. Because allowing myself to stay would have meant it would have hurt a hell of a lot more when he decided the drama wasn’t worth it and walked away.

“I don’t want to ever walk away again,” I say, and I mean it.

I don’t want to leave him, my business, my friends. These are my people, and I never again want to be as alone as I have been. It’s an awful, awful feeling. Forrest smiles, stands, and then tosses some money on the table before he walks around to the back of my chair and gently tugs it backward to allow me to stand.

But I have one more question that I need answered. I stand and turn toward him, placing my hands on his chest. I almost melt instantly at being this close to him, touching him, smelling him.

It’s so fucking amazing.

I missed every damn part of him.

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