His Ever After (Love Square) (10 page)

“You’re right. I don’t know what any of that is like, but you still need to clean up. Do Brooke’s parents even know yet?” Smartly, he ignores my outburst.

“No. I still have to call them.” I drag my hands through my hair. “I’ve notified too many strangers’ families to count, but this is so much fucking worse.” I pace back and forth before going for another drink.

“I know. Look, I’ll go grab some clothes from your room. You can shower in the guest bath or would you rather shower at my place?” Brad reaches for the bottle of liquor and takes it away from me.

I start pacing the kitchen again, attempting to calm my emotions. I don’t want to take my frustrations out on Brad. He’s just trying to be a good friend. And I could really use that support right now. I’ve been awake for probably forty hours straight, having a rational person in my corner is imperative at this point.

“Honestly, I’d rather be at your place. Do you think I could crash there for a bit?” I ask, knowing there is no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep in this apartment ever again.

“Anything you need. Head on over and I’ll meet you there,” Brad says before walking down the hall towards my bedroom.

I cross the hall to Brad’s apartment in a daze. He arrives shortly after with a bag full of clothes, and I go to take a shower.

Showering takes longer than I expected. Trying to get all the blood off that’s crusted and dried on my skin takes a lot of effort. I’m mortified that I even have to do this. Letting the water rain down over me, I lean up against the tiled wall and try to erase the visions plaguing my brain. It’s no use though. Brooke lying dead in my arms continues to haunt me.

Once out of the shower, I put my bloodied clothes into a garbage bag and head into the kitchen. I sit at the table and pick up my phone. Staring at it like it’s going to grow a head, I know I can’t wait any longer to call Brooke’s parents. They are going to be devastated. I swipe my finger over the screen and dial their house, steeling myself for the worse conversation I’ll probably ever have in my life.

***

My eyes open and I blink slowly into the darkness. I glance at the alarm clock and see that it’s five o’clock in the morning. I’ve been sleeping for twelve hours. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, remembering how horrible it was when I talked to Brooke’s parents. To say they took the news of Brooke’s death poorly is a definite understatement.

I called their house and got her mother, Anne, first. She automatically knew something was wrong when I called. I never called them directly before, and I’m sure the tone of my voice gave me away. I didn’t even get a chance to ask for Brooke’s father before she became agitated and started crying. Then she proceeded to go on about how she knew Brooke’s condition would finally break her. I’m not sure exactly what she meant. Her ramblings were rather cryptic, and I’m choosing not to put much stock in the words of a hysterical woman.

When Brooke’s father, Jeffery, took the phone from his wife, and I explained what happened, he proceeded to call me a son of a bitch, among many other derogatory things.

Ever since Brooke’s miscarriage, Jeffery has treated me like the scum on the bottom of his shoe. I suppose he has every right to now.

At the time of the miscarriage, her parents wanted Brooke to come back to Maryland and live with them. When she insisted that she wanted to stay with me and make a go of it, Jeffery threatened to cut her off from his money. I was convinced that Brooke was going to give in to his demands and move home. Sadly, a small part of me hoped that she would, so I could put the whole sordid affair behind me. But Brooke stuck to her guns and eventually Jeffery was the one who caved. I knew that I would never be welcomed with open arms at Sunday dinner, nor did I care. It was the life I had resigned myself to.

I deserve any punishment or mudslinging that the Dugan’s throw my way right now. I should have saved Brooke. I should have treated her with care. I should have given her the love that she needed.
Should. Should. Should.
That’s all I have left now… All the should haves. If I had only helped her fully heal after the miscarriage, none of this might have happened. And that is a fact that will stay with me, for as long as I live.

After I called Jeffery and Anne, I called my sister. Emma is understandably worried about me. She knows about the concerns I had regarding Brooke’s mental state. She once urged me to get Brooke professional help. I assured her that I had it under control. Brooke had agreed to talk to Kara about it. I mean, come on, Kara is a trained counselor. She’s the next best thing to a psychiatrist.

Which reminds me, I need to talk to Kara today. First, she needs to know what happened and second I want to know if Brooke ever talked to her like she promised. I don’t blame Kara if she wasn’t able to help her friend. I just need to know if Brooke took me seriously. If she didn’t, then I should have made her. And that would be just another thing I failed at.

After showering, I walk into Brad’s kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Sitting at the table, I stare into the dark, murky depths of the liquid in my cup. I don’t see the liquid though. All I can see is Brooke’s lifeless body. She’s continuing to haunt me today. I don’t even realize Brad has joined me in the room until his chair scrapes against the wooden floor.

“Feel any better now that you’ve had some sleep?” Brad asks while sipping his own coffee.

“I’m not sure how I can feel better when Brooke is lying in a morgue somewhere covered in a sheet.”

Figuring I should talk to someone about this, I make the decision to trust Brad with the gory details of how I killed my fiancée.

“She found all the things I had saved from when I was with Sam. It’s what set her off. How could I have been so careless? I should have known that she would go off the deep end if she ever found that shit. I was being selfish by keeping it. She didn’t even give me a chance to explain anything. I keep wondering what would have happened if I had been there when she found it. But I know I would have had to lie to her. I could have explained away the old stuff like pictures and cards, but not her damn book. It was released a couple of months ago. Brooke knew… and it drove her to take her own life.”

“You’re taking too much blame on yourself. Brooke made that decision. It was a weak one. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. We all make our own choices,” Brad says in between sips of his coffee.

“You don’t get it. I knew how fragile she was, but I didn’t care. If I did, I would have gotten rid of that shit instead of leaving it where she could have found it.” I’m seething now at the fact that he seems to be making light of how badly I fucked up. I don’t want him to let me off the hook. I want him to call me a sick, fucking bastard and punch me in the face. I want to feel pain, because all I feel right now is nothing.

“I’m not going to argue with you man. You’re one stubborn mother fucker. One day you’ll see.” Brad gets up and pops a bagel in the toaster. His back is to me, and I get the feeling he’s ignoring me and my mood on purpose.

After a few minutes of silence, I retreat back into my mind and remember poor Brooke lying in my arms yesterday. I wonder if this is going to be my new reality, obsessing over a death that I’ll never be able to change. I suppose I deserve to be consumed by this for the rest of my life. I don’t have long to myself before Brad sits back down at the table with his breakfast.

“Before I forget, Kara came by last night looking for you. She was a wreck man. I consoled her as best as I could. I’m not really sure it did anything for her though.” Brad gives me a little smirk and bites into his bagel.

My jaw clenches, picturing Kara in Brad’s arms. I don’t want him consoling her. I don’t want anyone consoling her. And that right there makes me a stupid, fucked up bastard.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I demand to know.

“Please. You were dead to the world the second your head hit that pillow.” He rolls his eyes and takes another bite of his bagel. “I told her you would call her today. She really wants to see you.”

I pick up my phone and fire off a text to have her call me when she’s awake. A few minutes later my phone rings.

“Hello,” I answer, anxious to hear her voice.

“Hi.” Her voice seems so small and far away. “How are you holding up? It must have been awful what happened yesterday,” she says in between sniffles.

“I’m hanging in there. Are you going to be okay?” I already know the answer to that question. Kara has the kindest soul. It’s going to take a lot for her to stop hurting for her friend.

All I can hear is a few stuttering breaths. I want to reach in the phone and hold her hand to give her some comfort.

“I’ll get there. I know Brooke could be a handful, but she was always there for me when I needed her. If you looked past the negativity and temper tantrums she had a heart of gold.” She lets out a little sigh. “I’m really going to miss her.”

“Me too.” I sit and listen to her sniffles and light cries. I have an overwhelming urge to be with her right now. To hold her while she cries. To wipe away her tears.

“I’d like to see you today if you’re available. I have some questions I’d like to ask you.”
Shit.
The detective in me is coming out. I sound like I’m about to interrogate her. The last thing I want is to scare her away.

“I called out from work today. There was no way I could focus on the kids the way they need. I could come over if you want. I stopped by last night, but you were sleeping.”

“I’d like that.” I look at the clock and calculate how long it will take me to do a few errands. “Why don’t you come over around eleven and we can grab lunch or something after we talk.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye, Jacob.” Her voice is back to sounding far away.

“Bye,” I murmur, before I hang up the phone.

“I’m going into work for a bit. You’ll have the house to yourself today,” Brad says while grabbing his wallet and keys from the counter.

“Thanks, man. I owe you one.” Before this is done, I’m going to owe him for more I’m sure.

“Forget about it. It’s nothing that you wouldn’t do for me,” he says before walking out the front door and going off to work.

Chapter Seven

First item on my agenda today was talking to the landlord. He was sympathetic about what happened, considering the fact that a woman killed herself in one of his units. After explaining the situation to him, I asked if there was another unit available. He assured me that he would let me know as soon as possible. I kept expecting him to look at me with disgust, like the murderer I am and deny me another apartment. It would have been fitting punishment. When he didn’t, I was more than a little surprised at how understanding he was, but I’m grateful nonetheless.

Next, I called and hired a cleaning company to come in and clean up the mess that was left in not only the bathroom, but the whole apartment.

Then I arranged for a moving company to come in and pack up all of our belongings. Emma agreed to come visit and supervise the workers. The plan is to have Brooke’s belongings packed up separately from mine and shipped to her parent’s house in Maryland.

It feels strange not having Brooke to talk to. When you live with someone, you get used to their company. I know I wanted her to move on, but not having her around feels odd. I got so used to her conversations, whether they were good or bad. I even find I already miss the way she used to sing in the shower. It was always off key, and it was usually some pop garbage. I suppose I’ll eventually get used to the silence and being by myself again.

There’s a knock on the door at exactly eleven o’clock. I open it to see a fresh faced Kara, sporting worn jeans and a tight, gray sweater. Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, leaving her with a casual look.

She immediately engulfs me in a hug, wrapping her slender arms around my waist and burying her head in my chest. I wrap my arms around her as well and hold on tight for as long as she’ll let me. I love the way she feels in my arms. We stay that way for several minutes, soaking up each other’s warmth.

“Sorry, I just really needed that,” Kara whispers and wipes a tear as she looks up at me.

“I’m always here for you. Why don’t you come in? Let me take your coat.” There is no way I’m going to admit to her right now that I needed that just as much as she did. I don’t want her to see how vulnerable it makes me.

I help her take her coat off and lay it on the back of the chair. “Would you like some tea?”

“I’d love some.” Her lips tip up in a smile.

I watch her sit at the table and then turn to the stove to put the water on to boil. I locate a box of tea towards the back of Brad’s cupboard. I’m guessing it is Sophie’s doing that Brad actually has tea. Once the water is hot, I steep the bag and set the cup in front of her on the table.

I take the seat next to her and look her over as she blows lightly on the hot liquid. There’s something about watching her mouth perform that smallest task that is so damn alluring.

Her eyes look sad and tired. Knowing that she’s probably exhausted, it is best that I get the hard stuff out of the way. I decide to just come out and ask her about Brooke. It might make me sound like a dick, leading with this line of questioning, but it’s important I know.

“I have to ask. Did Brooke ever talk to you about anything?” She looks at me like she’s confused. Of course, there are a million things I could be referring to. Best to get on with it and be more specific.

“I’m not sure how to say this. I guess I’ll just come out with it. After her miscarriage, did she ever talk to you about what she was feeling or thinking? I wanted her to get some counseling, but she never did. I finally did get her to promise to talk to you about it. I need to know if she did.” Reaching over and covering my hand with hers, I try to show her I don’t think negatively of her in any way.

“Brooke did talk to me about certain aspects of her life. She tended to close herself off from people when it came to that type of thing, though. It probably had to do with the way her parents treated her.”