Page 92 of Chasing Forever
Chapter Thirty-Six
Brooks
I never call out from work. I work holidays. I’m on call more than I’m not—but today, I’m off. No badge, no radio. Just me and a whole lot of thoughts I’m not ready to dissect.
My father’s words echo through my head every time I let the silence stretch too long—“you’re not mine.”
The worst part was that it was a semi-relief. Somewhere deep down, I’ve always been scared I’d turn into him. Now there’s a crack in that fear because he created no part of me.
I still believe who you are is more about how you’re brought up, what you witness and absorb. Not blood. But it doesn’t change the relief that’s set in since I found out. But with that relief comes a sense of betrayal too, for keeping the truth from me for so many years.
My mom has called more than a handful of times, but she’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to return any of her calls. Not now. Maybe not ever.
I’m on the couch, vegging with a cold pizza from last night and binge-watching How to Catch a Smuggler. Mack is sprawled out on the floor as though he’s emotionally recovering too. Probably missing Lottie.
Then I hear the crunch of gravel on my drive. I tense, hoping it’s not either of my parents. It won’t be Lottie, so there’s no reason to bother to get up.
Footsteps echo up my porch steps. I wait for a knock on the door I fully plan to ignore. But the doorknob turns, and I glance over.
No one just walks into my house. Except maybe Ben in a crisis. But he doesn’t know what went down last night, and there’s no way this town has heard the secret. My parents would rather be buried alive than tell anyone that truth. No doubt my dad is regretting his anger-filled rant from last night, worried I’m going to out them both to the citizens of Willowbrook.
Mack lifts his head, then springs up. His ears perk forward, his tail wagging. Definitely not my parents then. Mack doesn’t fake his loyalty.
I stand as the door cracks open.
“Hey, Mack. I’m just going to drop these off right here, and then I’ll be right back.”
She’s here. She came.
“Lottie?” I cross the room in a few hard strides, then yank the door the rest of the way open.
She’s dressed up with her hair done, makeup on, and arms full of grocery bags. The expression on her face makes her look as though she’s been caught.
“You’re home.” She rocks back as if she wasn’t expecting me. “Oh. I wasn’t prepared.”
We stand, each taking the other in. I’m an idiot for letting her push me away last night, letting her think she could walk out of my life and I wouldn’t fight for us.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice stumbles out, her eyes wide and glassy. “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
I wrap an arm around her neck and pull her in, pressing my forehead to hers. Her breath hitches and mine stays trapped in my chest until we can get this all cleared up.
“It was me,” I murmur. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re right—I should’ve been telling you how much I love you for who you are today, not trying to rewind time. That’s not the woman I fell in love with.”
“Brooks,” she says softly, pulling back just enough to look at me, “please let me say what I need to first, okay?”
I nod and reach to take the bags from her hands. “Okay. Let me help.” I peek inside. “What’s all this?”
Her shoulders slump. “I was going to make you dinner. As an apology. Thought I’d be waiting for you to come home, but…”
She walks into the kitchen, Mack trailing her as though she’s his everything. Get in line, buddy.
“Why are you home, Brooks?” She unpacks while I carry in the rest of the bags.
“You have more in the car?” I’m dodging her question.
“Just a few. I’ll get them.”
“No, I got it. I think someone wants your attention.” I glance at Mack sitting next to her, tail thumping, waiting patiently.
