Page 14 of It Happened Again

“Right. Sorry.” I exited the car completely flushed from the trip down memory lane of the hot week I’d spent with Brooks over Spring Break so long ago.

With every step I took up to the fourth-floor walkup apartment I shared with my best friend, Sophie, new images hit me like a scrapbook of my life.

Oh, look!There was Brooks winking at me over the blender as he made me a perfect margarita.

There was a selfie, commemorating a sweet moment between us as we read side by side in a swaying hammock under the palm trees, the breeze blowing us to and fro. My legs crossed over his and his hand gently caressed my knee. And it was bliss, this quiet time between the two of us with our books, in our own little world.

And yet another memory teased me, where we were kissing in the sand on our last moonlit night on the island far enough up the beach, the waves crawled up and gently lapped our toes.

“Take me tonight, Brooks. I want this with you,” I’d said.

“Fuck, Maisy, you know I want it, too. But I don’t only want tonight. I think I want the rest of your life. We’ll be so good together, baby. I’ll make you so happy.” His mouth covered mine, and passion swirled through my veins.

I wanted him and everything he promised. But…

“Brooks,” I breathlessly panted, gulping air, trying to remain grounded. “There’s something you should know. I’m leaving for a year. I’ve signed on for a research voyage, and I leave right after graduation.”

“A year away? From me? When were you going to tell me?”

The memory of the devastation in his eyes and voice upon hearing the news hit me all over again by the time I reached the top step to our floor. By the time I unlocked our door and entered, tears threatened to spill down my cheeks.

Sophie glanced up from her latest obsession, reading the biographies of successful female businesswomen which she claimed fed her mind and soul. Ad nauseam, she’d used her knowledge to help me navigate my professional relationship with Julian, pushing me to assert myself. As my bestie since college, she almost knew me better than Chelsea. She could tell something was up.

“Uh-oh. Was the Orion event a bust? Don’t tell me Julian put the moves on you? Or were the hors d’oeuvres bland and lacking imagination?” she inquired, launching off the couch and coming to my aid as I slid my coat off and kicked my heels to the side.

I took a deep and shaky breath. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet. I saw Brooks again. Twice now, actually.”

“What? Where? Tonight?” Her eyes bulged from their sockets.

“At Orion, in a tux.”

“Was itgood?”

That was Sophie-speak for the emotions of the moment. The marketing whiz inside of her constantly gauged how one tinymoment in a person’s life solved a problem or created more joy or made their day easier.

“He looked…” I sighed. Perfect? Handsome? Dreamy?

“Like the reason God invented tailored suits, smoldering stares, and muscles?” She provided.

“Yeah. Exactly. He was every bit the man I remembered, but so much more—intense.” By now we were in the kitchen and I fell back against the counter, staring off. “The past few years have definitely added even more maturity with a subtle dark side, which I found alluring—But, er, I mean nothing will come of it, of course.”

“Jesus, Mary, and all the good grapes,” she exclaimed and crossed herself, even though she was far from overtly religious. “Is it Wine and Whine time?”

A tear escaped the corner of my eye, and I nodded.

“I got you, sister.” She pulled a wine bottle and a charcuterie board from the fridge, her latest fetish. She loved placing various varieties of meat and cheese and other ingredients on a board in random ways, as if it were art. Her Pinterest board of charcuterie images should be the envy of women everywhere.

I quickly changed into leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. The logo of our research team from the ship was faded by now from so many washings. We sat cross-legged on the couch, facing each other, and I dished about the first time seeing him again at Orion, about how he’d worn the scarf—of all things.

“The scarf? Wow. It’s like your talisman; it brought you two back together. Oh, you know what you should do? Knit him another,” she suggested.

I ignored that and gave all the details about tonight as we demolished the food on the board, and I included how Brooks talked about fate. “He said, ‘We meet, things happen, then we walk away. So it has me curious. What will happen this time?’”

“He said that? Oh, my God. Swoon.” In dramatic fashion, she clutched her heart and fell onto her back on the cushion. A moment later, she popped up again. “And you came home? Why are you not climbing him like a tree right now at his million dollar loft?”

“You have always been pro-Brooks.” I tossed a mini cracker at her. “Could you, for once, be pro-Maisy?”

“Hey, I’m always pro-you, okay? I just also believe in my heart that Brooks was the right man at the wrong time. You have never had the perfect moment to explore what could be. He’s right about fate. Maybe this is finally meant to be—right now?”

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