Page 16 of Grace Notes
I regret it immediately.
“Hey,” I say, lowering my voice and reaching out. I grab her fingers, but she pulls them out of my grip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost it like that. I just—I don’t want to fail her.”
Since the day I found out I was going to be a dad, I’ve worried about failing my daughter. Although my dad is around now, he wasn’t growing up, and I never wanted Avery to feel what I felt. But until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much this situation felt like I was failing her.
Emryn’s face smooths out, and she lowers her shoulders. “Brooks, failing her would mean you don’t get her the help she deserves. It doesn’t make us a failure to admit that we are out of our league here.”
All my nerves are on edge, scraping against my emotions and leaving me raw and wounded.
“Can we just put a pin in this conversation? I promise we can talk about it later. I see your point, but I need some time, okay?”
Emryn nods, running her hand along my jaw. “Okay.”
We sit in silence for the rest of the drive. Unlike the silence that surrounded us a year ago, it’s not uncomfortable, but it does leave me too much time to think—to get lost in my mind—a place I would desperately like to escape right now.
So when we pull into the studio, I sigh a breath of relief.
Emryn turns to me, confusion marring her face. “What are we doing here?”
We are one town over, sitting in the parking lot of a dance studio—a place of my nightmares—but for Emryn, it will be a dream come true.
Lifting my lips to one side, I offer her a cheeky grin. “We’re going to take dance lessons before the ceremony since, the last time we got married, you accused me of having two left feet.”
A giggle, light and airy, parts Emryn’s lips. She tilts her head back, laughing, and my eyes follow the line of her neck.
“Beautiful,” I breathe, unable to take my eyes off her.
Her laugh dies off, and her eyes find mine. There’s heat there but mischief, too.
“I don’t know,” she smirks, “you’re pretty good at dancing in the kitchen.”
Chapter 10
Emryn
“Stop stepping on my toes,” Brooks grumbles, a deep laugh hiding behind the grumpiness of his words.
I scoff, “I’m not stepping on your toes. You’re stepping on mine.”
Other couples dance smoothly around us, holding each other while the guy leads and the woman follows.
Brooks and I look like a couple of baby ducks compared to those surrounding us, but I can also say that this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Even though we both apparently have two left feet when it comes to ballroom dancing, it’s fun figuring it out with him.
The sides of my stomach ache from laughing as Brooks pulls me closer, lifting me to stand on the tops of his boots, and begins to move. It’s my favorite way to dance with him.
“I think this is cheating,” I whisper, looking around to see who is watching, but all the other couples are wrapped up in each other, paying us no mind. The instructor, a young kid doing this for extra money, has her head in her phone on the other side of the room. We are free to dance as we please.
“Nah,” Brooks smirks, “just smart thinking.”
I roll my eyes but don’t argue with his logic because I don’t want him to stop holding me. It’s easy to get lost in his arms—forget everything that has me stressed and just let myself be withhim. It’s why I’ve loved him most of my life. Even when we were younger, there was a string that pulled me to him. His presence was always peaceful.
“How did your last final go today?” Brooks asks, laying his cheek against the top of my head. His lips brush over my hair, leaving a soft kiss behind, and a shiver runs from the place where they landed down to my toes.
It’s hard to concentrate when he does that. I have to clear my throat and blink a couple of times before realizing he’s asked me a question.
“It was a disaster, honestly. I’ve studied all week, but I’m not sure if I retained any of it. I’ve had too many other things on my mind. I saw your note this morning…” I trail off, unsure of how to approach this.
I know Brooks supports me, but I’m not sure if that’s enough because the truth is, I can’t split myself into two different places—home and at school.
