Page 47 of Brooke
Before she could think of how to answer, he pickedher up like she wasn’t a grown woman and carried her gently into the salon. No man had ever swept her up like that, and the feeling of being held, carried, was earth-shattering. There were words for it, she supposed—nestled, cherished, protected—but none of them seemed to adequately describe the current of warmth and raw emotion filling her. So she simply held on to him, not wanting to let go.
He flicked the two-way fireplace on, and there was a whoosh as the flames caught before a ribbon of blue and gold fire spanned out in a straight line. Normally she would have complimented him on his incendiary choice, but she couldn’t push out the words as he sat down with her in his lap on the low-slung cream sofa, the open invitation to unburden herself obvious as they both watched the fire.
She thought of the way Thea had looked at her from the bottom of that stairway earlier, fear and worry written all over her sweetheart face. Brooke had known what was in the garment bag from its sheer metrics. And that knowledge had turned her to stone. She’d tried to squash every nasty emotion inside her, but like that damn dog shit on her shoe, there’d been no stopping the stain from spreading.
“Oh, Axel.” She turned her face into his massive chest, her hands curling into fists.
He didn’t press her, only infused her with comfort and kindness as he caressed her back with assuring strokes. Slowly, her inner stone started to crumble.
“I was the worst kind of friend today. To Thea. Even Nanine called me about it, but not to chide me. God! It was awful.”
“You speak of Thea?” He tipped up her chin gently, his blue eyes communicating surprise. “I cannot believe it. You adore each other.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “We do. That’s why it’s so much worse.”
He settled her back against him. “What happened, Brooke?”
The inner pressure was growing, like a teakettle close to boiling. “Don’t laugh, okay?”
“I would never laugh when you are sharing a hurt, Brooke.”
Her throat thickened, because she didn’t doubt it. “She found her wedding dress without me today. God! I sound like such a self-important idiot. But I’d promised I’d find her the most perfect dress in the world—I’m good at that kind of thing—and I also wanted to pay for it. Because money is tight for her with leaving her job in the U.S. and starting her own bakery. Anyway, that’s not the issue here…”
When he only cradled her closer, she dug her fingernails into her palms. “I didn’t do what I’d promised. That’s one failure. But it also happened without me. The whole thing. I’d planned on having a champagne toast for her for after we found it, and I… Wasn’t. Even. There.”
“You feel left out and also like you’d failed your friend,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But I don’t imagine Thea believes you’ve failed her, Brooke.”
Her insides were a screaming mess, and it took a moment for her to answer. “No, a part of her is proud of herself—as she should be. Nanine had that part right. Before, she’d never have had the courage to walk into a store like that or trust her judgment. Granted, Fabiana was with her. That’s her future mother-in-law and she’s a former model with a great sense of style. I expect she helped Thea?—”
“Ah…I see. There is a part of you who feels replaced. Thea does not need you as she used to.”
Nanine’s words came back to her. No, they didn’t need her like they used to, and Nanine was trying to help her understand it was okay. But it didn’t feel okay. “I don’t know how to handle all these changes,” she finally admitted.
“They take time, Brooke. Like I’ve said, you all are intransition. But that doesn’t soothe your heart. Not when you also believe you were a bad friend.”
She sat up on his lap, the firelight flickering on the broad planes of his face. “Iwasa bad friend! I couldn’t be one hundred percent happy for her today. It was like I was on the proverbial mat, wrestling with all my emotions. They blotted out the majority of my happiness.”
He cupped her cheek gently. “You were angry at yourself and her for denying you your goal, and you felt shame thinking you’d failed her. The vision you had did not come to life, and you felt betrayed by that. Worse, you felt useless, and that, my dear one, is a great bogeyman for you, as they say in English. We have a similar sentiment in Norwegian, which makes me think the specter is universally understood.”
Her lips trembled, both at him calling her dear one, a treasured endearment she hoped she could always replay in her mind, but also for his stellar insight. He saw her. Like Nanine did. To the core, and he never made her feel wrong for how she felt.
He traced her face with gentle fingertips. “Somewhere along the way you started to believe you have to do things for others, please them, keep them happy, to be loved.”
“My mother.” Hurt and rage swirled like the fire in front of them, making her feel small and vulnerable, feelings she’d tried with every part of her will to move past. After all these years, she hated being overtaken by those old feelings. She hadn’t been that little girl for a long, long time. And yet, she still pushed into Brooke’s current reality…
The last time she’d seen her mother was in Nanine’s restaurant—and her own mother had refused to acknowledge her existence. In public, surrounded by her new family. They’d never seen each other again even though her Manhattan apartment was only ten blocks from where Brooke had lived as an adult. With millions of people in New York City, it wasn’t surprising they hadn’t run into each other.
But her mother had never gotten in touch with her once! Not even when Brooke had made it big in fashion. She’d waited for an email or phone call, knowing how her mother had always loved fashion. But it had never come.
“The power of a parent to hurt is a common human story, and yet the damage is always catastrophic. Every bit of purity and innocence suddenly disappears in the face of a harsh word or hand. The journey we all must undertake is deciding whether we will fight to recover what we lost or let ourselves believe the lies we were told. You have decided to fight, and as a fellow fighter, I am here at your side to help you when the attackers in your mind seem too powerful.”
She framed his broad face in her hands, the bones beautiful and strong under her fingertips. “Why would you feel like this about me? We’ve only just met.”
His blue eyes brightened as he smiled softly. “What does time know of feelings or the human heart? We can feel something that changes our life in a second. Brooke, when I came to know you, first in my readings and then last week, I knew life was about to reveal something very powerful to me through you.”
Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. “What?”
He tilted his head to the side and smiled ever so mysteriously. “A greater capacity for feeling, I’m coming to believe. Brooke, I cannot explain why I feel as I do. I only know that I feel at home when I think of you and spend time with you. My heart is happy and calm and content. I believe it would be a privilege to live my life being able to simply look up and see you across the room.”
