In a harsh tone, he adamantly informs, “No. They said it would be horrible press if I did.”

Tears leak from my eyes, and I brush them away. I’m evidently upset and swallow thickly, feeling sick to my stomach, but I push through the emotions that have taken hold of me.

His response to my anxiety is to caress the side of my face with the back of his fingers, and I lean into his embrace because again, I have no control over my actions. It all feels too much at that moment.Fuck, I miss him. I feel myself falling all over again.

I also embrace it. Loving his hands on me in any way.

“I told him I didn’t fucking care, and if they went through with any of it, I would sue just for the fucking bad press on their end. My father’s been served a c&d, and he knows better than to fuck with me. He used what he had on me and has nothing left.”

Lies or truths?

He continues, “I’ll keep my job. But right now, it’s not what I want.”

Unable to help myself, I blurt, “What do you want?”I hate the hope that I cling to when I ask him that question.

All in one breath, he replies, “You. I fucked up, and I’m sorry.” He looks deep into my eyes, almost like he is staring into my soul, before he confesses in private for the first time, “I love you, Brook. I’ve always loved you.”

I resist, and he gives me the phone, showing me something on the screen.

Pointing at what appears to be a star, he states, “That one right there is yours. When it gets darker, you can see it.”He points at the window.

Shocked and dismayed, I whisper, “You bought me a star?” as if I’m asking a question.

“I named it after you.”

“I—”

“Just hold that thought.” He practically runs out of the room, quickly returning from the bedroom with a bright teal Tiffany bag. “I got these for you too,” he says, sounding out of breath. The small bag dangles from his hand, and I stare at him with disbelief.

“Please,” he presses, holding it closer to me, “It’s yours.”

I open it, and it’s a star with our initials for all to see. It’s dainty and a beautiful silver. I run my thumb over the engraving. It’s breathtaking. B&R. My eyes instantly glaze, and I hold back the tears from sliding down the sides of my face.

“I wanted to buy you a constellation, but they said they don’t allow that.” He watches me, waiting for a reaction. “So a star in the sky and one for you to wear.” He swallows, and the cords in his neck tighten. He brushes his palms on his suit pants in the silence. His black tie is loose around his neck and his collar unbuttoned. I can’t deny the pull to him. The attraction. And how genuine he seems. I just don’t know that I can trust him. He already broke my heart once, and I don’t know what will happen to me when he inevitably does it again.

“Are you trying to buy me back?”

He shakes his head. “I know I can’t do that. I know no amount of money takes back what I did, but I need you to know and understand that letting you go when you really needed me…I wish I could just go back. The moment I did it, I regretted it. I swear to you. There hasn’t been a second in the day that I haven’t thought about you and the very second I did what I was told to.”

“Told to?” I’m visibly upset.

“My father. I didn’t…” He looks away for a moment, then back at me. “I didn’t do it because he told me to. I did it because if I didn’t listen to him, I knew he could hurt you even worse than you were already hurting, and I knew it was all my fault, and I didn’t know how to stop it any other way. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ever did this to you. I wish I could just take it all back.” Another tear slips down my cheek, and I brush it away, still unsure what to say. In my silence, he adds, “Our fathers can have each other.” He huffs a laugh. “It’s what they deserve.”

I can’t argue with him there. They do deserve every shitty, fucked-up thing coming their way.

Sensing my hesitation, he reaffirms, “What else can I do, Brook?”

“See…” I reply. “That’s the part that sucks. I love you so much that I want to just say yes.”

He steps toward me and grabs my chin, angling it to him. “Then do it. Say yes. But wait.”

It all happens so fast, yet it still seems to play out in slow motion. He drops to one knee and pulls a ring from his pocket, showing it to me.

I open my mouth to speak, but he quickly cuts me off.

He speaks with conviction, “Marry me, Brook. For real this time.”He looks up at me and I can barely believe it’s happening.

“It’s my mother’s ring, Brook. That’s how you know I mean it.”