Page 8 of When I Come Back
He shakes his head in confusion before responding, “Like what?”
“Like this hurts you as much as it hurts me. Just… stop. I don’t even know why you’re still here.” I don’t wait for him to respond before I’m walking past him. Back to the reception. Back into Ripley’s arms. Back into a life Carrington Grant is no longer a part of.
Chapter Four
Thea
“Fuck. Did they ever throw anything away?” Brooks whines as we go through the boxes from the attic at Owen and Hazel’s house. He’s been full of surprises in the days since the funeral with how unguarded and open he’s been. I was stunned when I got his message this morning asking if I’d help at the house. He said he wants to clean it up, do some renovations, and put it up for sale. There are too many memories here to keep it. I don’t blame him for making the decision to sell. It’ll be sad to see someone else moving in, but it’s sad just being here without Owen and Hazel anyway.
“Do you remember how much shit we had to go through before we started the work on the diner? I love your mother dearly, but the woman was a true pack-rat.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” he quips back, both of us chuckling at the memory of her reaction anytime someone mentioned throwing something “sentimental” out. It didn’t matter what it was or how long it’d been since she’d seen it last, ifit had any memory connected to it, she called it sentimental. As one can imagine, that meanteverythingwas “sentimental” and nothing was ever thrown out. I miss them so much, but it’s nice to feel something other than grief-stricken when I think about them.
“Hey, umm…” Brooks clears his throat and shuffles from foot to foot. His hand comes up and scratches the back of his neck as he says, “I’m going to do right by RED… and you, okay? I know I haven’t been the most responsible—or even reliable—person in the past, but… I just promise I won’t run shit into the ground. I want you to know that.”
I’m stunned silent by his declaration. Clearly, he isn’t ignorant to the fact that it’s hard for anyone to take him seriously based on his past actions and reputation, but I guess he’s going to use this tragedy as an opportunity to step up, and that means the world to me.
I meet his eyes as I say, “Thank you, I really appreciate that.”
We settle into a comfortable silence, neither of us saying anything more. We continue to fill trash bags with things we can either donate or throw away. Every once in a while, we’ll ask each other for an opinion on something if we aren’t sure which pile to put it in. It’s the calmest I’ve felt in days.
Going through Owen and Hazel’s things, though heartbreaking, is bringing back some fond memories. I’m comforted remembering all of the moments we shared. And I’m able to turn off my brain a little with the physical labor of sorting and tossing.
I’m touched Brooks asked me to be here. Carrington is in town, but he still reached out to me for help with this. The thought forms a lump in my throat. This family means so much to me. Losing Carrington felt catastrophic, but finding the Grants and Brooks again after the fallout felt like kismet. Now we’ve lost them, and everything feels bleak again.
I stretch my arms over my head to pop my back when I catch Brooks looking in my direction. “What?” I ask, confused by the musing look on his face.
“Nothing, you just… well, I’m just glad. You seem happy.” His words catch me off-guard, and I make a weird choked sound before finding my words.
“I—what? I seem happy? Right now? In the wake of… everything that’s happened?”
“Oh. Shit. No, sorry. I just mean with Rip. You two seem happy together.” He brushes his fingers over his short hair, his nerves showing. He typically keeps his hair buzzed short, but hasn’t touched it up in over a week now, so it’s longer than usual.
“You do realize how fucking random that was?” I throw a wad of the newspaper we’ve been using to pack up the things he’s keeping.
He throws his hands up in front of his face to block it from hitting him before speaking again. “Not really. I spent all day at the funeral watching him dote on you and make sure you were okay. I guess I hadn’t realized before how serious you two are since you keep it professional at work.”
I busy my hands by closing up the trash bag beside me, refusing to make eye contact with him. “Oh, right. Yeah, uh, I guess so,” I tumble over my words as I try not to sound too awkward.
He chuckles then says, “Just makes me realize how we never would have worked out even if you had given me a chance.” I look over and catch his lips quirk up teasingly.
My cheeks heat, and I cover them with my hands to make them stop. I’m still embarrassed by how I handled that whole situation. “Oh my God, stop. I’ve apologized so many times for that! You’re basically my older brother. Besides, you never liked me like that anyway,” I grumble back to him.
He brings his hand to his heart as he dramatically says, “Jilted by the one and only Thea Ashford who wouldn’t even grace me with a pity kiss. I don’t know how I survived.”
I’m full on covering my face now as I try to keep my laughter from bubbling out. We’d gone on a whole two dates, both uncomfortable and amazingly awkward.
The people of this small town always seem to be trying their hand at matchmaking until things end disastrously. Then they all act like they never suggested the pairing in the first place.
They’d spent a whole year after I got back from Seattle asking me what happened with Carrington and if we’d reconcile. Then, suddenly, everyone moved on to shipping me with his brother and started badgering me to “give him a chance.” Ms. Lucille down at the bank had even gone as far as commenting on what beautiful babies we’d make together. I shouldn’t have let them talk me into something I knew wouldn’t work, but I figured if I gave in and tried, showed them it was a terrible idea, they’d leave me alone. Which is exactly what happened… after I leaned away when Brooks went in for a kiss on a very public dance floor. He’s never let me forget it.
I stand up and grab the two full trash bags beside me before rolling my eyes in his direction. “You managed just fine, don’t pretend like you didn’t. Both Nat and Tiffany have shared way too many details with me. I really wish you’d stop sleeping with the women who work at RED.” I shudder and cringe at the memory of the stories I’ve heard about Brooks in less than appropriate situations.
The moment I turn around to leave the room with the bags, I see Carrington standing silently in the doorway. Immediately, I wonder how long he’s been standing there and what he may have overheard. His face looks more like Brooks’ than his own with the angry expression painted across his features giving me all the answers I need. I don’t hesitate another moment beforewalking out of the room, pushing past him without saying a word.
Air. I need air. Every encounter with him is filled with so much tension that it steals all the oxygen from the room. The weight of his gaze is like a physical thing—it’s suffocating.
I set the two bags on the sidewalk beside the mailbox for trash pickup then lift my face to the sun, letting it give me the strength to deal with whatever comes next back inside the house. My eyes are closed as I soak it in for just a moment longer before taking a deep breath, releasing all the tension in my body.
