Page 64 of Coming Unraveled
“My intel tells me that the DNA samples are back from the homicide case of the probable victim in Raleigh. I’m going to guess that those results show your ex as the man in question.”
“Wow, ok,” she adds with a false sound of enthusiasm that she doesn’t feel.
“I’ll be in touch.”
The couple watches as Sierra twirls on her heels, a school of men trailing her in her wake.
Brooks gazes down at her, running a soothing hand down her back. “Do you want to stay the night or drive back to Carson?”
“You fly out tomorrow, right?” she asks, considering how she wants to spend her last night with Brooks. Normally she would jump at the chance to have wild passionate sex with the man she loves, but she has a hungry yearning to sleep wrapped in his arms, remembering the feeling of his tight hold, the false sense of perfection. Because she knows the likelihood of him returning to her is slim, and she has no desire to hold him back from his dreams, even when it means crushing her own.
At his nod she smiles up at him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she says, “Come on, take me back home.”
***
“CUT,” THE CAMERAMAN SHOUTS from his perch on the bench overlooking the famous Brooklyn Bridge.
Brooks has been in New York City for the past four and a half weeks and he had finally filmed enough shots to fulfill his contract. Charleston has been great, getting all the segments for the medical show and sports squished into the smallest time frame as possible. They would have been done sooner if the Asheville team hadn’t made it to the World Series playoffs and the production crew hadn’t come down with a nasty stomach bug last week.
Once the filming stops and the crew begin to remove the lapel microphone tucked against his tie, the wires hidden beneath his shirt. Brooks begins pushing each button through its matching hole to help open his shirt. The women gathered across the way begin screaming in earnest.
“Look at that fan club,” Charleston jokes as she saunters towards him, but as she witnesses the scowl on his face her bubbly response dies. “You still haven’t heard from her?”
“No. The calls weren’t consistent to begin with, but she’s busy and so am I. I understood. But then I had to tell her that the trip was going to take longer and that stupid photo came out and now I haven’t spoken to her in two weeks. It’s killing me, Charlie. I’m afraid she thinks I’m not coming back to her.”
Brooks’ heart aches thinking about how Everleigh reacted when she saw the tabloid photo of him draped in women. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but the picture appeared worse than it was. He was signing autographs after filming the World Series segment and a bunch of fans crowded around him, two of which decided they wanted what was in his pants. The pictures showed him closing his eyes in frustration as he yelled for security, but the women were both working their way to unzip his pants. He had been furious and threatened to leave, contract be damned, but Charleston had talked him down. He had called Everleigh straight away and she seemed to laugh at his expense, but two weeks later when the picture was released all he heard was the sound of crickets.
The skeptic that she is, Charleston cocks an unconvinced eyebrow in his direction as she rests against the metal railing blocking them from the water. “Seems like you put in a lot of effort to keep her happy. When will it be enough?”
Throwing his long-sleeved Henley over his chest, handing the severe button-downed shirt back to the crew, Brooks turns to return Charlie’s stare. “I would give her the world if she let me. When you love someone that’s just what you do.”
“But what does she do for you? Seems kind of one-sided.”
Brooks searches his friend’s eyes, wondering where her cynical thoughts stem from, who had caused her hurt.
Deciding to give her the honest truth in hope to help her understand Brooks replies, “She gives me herself. And that’s all I’ll ever want.”
Charlie nods as if considering his words. “Well, Casanova, I came over here to let you know that you’re good to go and I’ll be in touch with you about the bi-weekly segments we’ve agreed to and sending the production crews down your way.”
At the thought of returning home to Carson, Brooks practically squeezes the life from Charlie as he swings her into his arms.
“Thank you,” he adds as he places her on her feet and practically sprints to the crew member holding his coat and car keys.
“Oh, and one more thing, Brooks,” Charlie speaks up, halting his movements as he glances at her over his shoulder. “You have about sixteen hours before the trial starts in Raleigh. They pushed it up a week due to Rich breaking his house arrest.”
“Fuck, I don’t…” he begins but Charleston, the wonderful friend that she is, grabs a garment bag from another crew member and places it on his arm. Inside he can see the makings of a sleek dark gray suit. “Thank you, Charlie. Please say that you’ll come and visit. Oh, and wish me luck.”
He doesn’t wait for her response, running towards the parking lot, but as he gets to the asphalt he turns his attention back towards the scene and watches as Charleston stands in the same place, her expression like that of a lost little girl. He wishes that he had time to help her, fix whatever is broken with his friend, but he needs to focus on fixing the thing most important to him – his marriage to Everleigh.
Spending the night packing the hotel room he barely takes a few hours for some shut-eye. Before he knows it, Brooks is tossing the keys to the rental car back to the agent and boarding a plane back to Asheville. Before the flight attendant asks them to stow away electronics he calls Everleigh once more, only getting her voicemail in return. In his rejection, he types out a quick text to her and to Logan, asking his friend if he can pick him up at the airport.
The short two-hour flight whizzes by and soon Brooks feels the wheels of the plane touch down on the tarmac. He tries to be patient, to not push and shove his way past the other passengers but his need to get his bags and run is overwhelming. Finally, he departs the plane and walks briskly towards the baggage claim. His eyes search wildly for Logan, but he is pleasantly surprised to find Avery waiting for him.
Her slim arms wrap around his shoulders as she welcomes him home, the petite woman not appearing as if she had twins roughly six months prior.
“It’s so good to see you. Can I help you with your bags?”
Brooks lets her carry his small travel bag while he fights with the other three.
