Dean stopped her at the exit where he and Claire waited for their cue. “Brek’ll come around.”
She gave a little nod, biting her lip. Of course he would, he was Brek. Her Brek.
Claire set her hands on Velma’s shoulders and looked her square in the eye. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Velma assured her, but the words sounded weak even to her own ears.
“Dean. She’s not fine.” Claire shuffled her feet, her face a mass of concern. “We can take a later flight. I’m not leaving for a week, when she’s not okay.”
Velma slipped Claire’s hands from her shoulders and squeezed them. “I’m fine.” She drew out the last word. “I can’t exactly tell him I’m in love with him when you’re hovering.”
“But you’ll call me?” Claire asked. “After you talk to him?”
At this rate, they were going to have to force her out of the country club and into the waiting car.
“She will call you. I will call you. Everyone will call you.” Heather shooed Claire along as she silently mouthed to Dean, “We’re not calling.”
“Everyone ready?” Brek strode around the corner. “Your stuff is all loaded. Claire, your purse is in the back seat. I checked with the hotel and airline, everything’s set.”
Dean held out his hand to his best friend; they did a combo shake and bro hug that was more of a smack on the back. “Wedding was kickass. You did great.”
Brek tossed him a lopsided grin. “You owe me.”
The doors opened, and the family cheered and threw rose petals and birdseed as Claire and Dean ran to the waiting limousine.
Brek had found them a purple Hummer limousine. It was perfect.
Velma felt him behind her. His presence. He stood right there. A step back and she could’ve leaned right into his embrace. Everything was going to be okay. He had her back. She had his. It’s what they did.
Claire turned as she climbed into the back of the Hummer, her eyes meeting Velma’s. They sparkled with happiness. She made a little phone with her thumb and pinky and held it to her ear.
Velma shook her head.
Dean scooted into the car after Claire, and they were off.
Her sister had found Mr. Right, and she’d wasted no time in marrying him. Velma was done messing around with ridiculous five-year plans and spreadsheets that told her absolutely nothing.
She turned to tell Brek she loved him. Right there at the wedding. He needed to know.
He wasn’t there.
She found Amy in the country club kitchen. “Where’s Brek?”
“He took off. Said he had business he needed to handle.” She gave Velma a sympathetic look, but Velma had no energy left to figure it out.
So, he’d already left? That was okay. They could talk at home where it was quiet. It’d be better this way.
Still…a niggle of doubt tickled. The little chink in Velma’s heart cracked further. She should have hurried home, but a twinge of avoidance had her turning left to take the long way, instead of right.
It didn’t matter. Brek’s parking space in the garage was empty when she pulled in next to it.
She held her computer bag tight and headed for the apartment, each step harder than the last. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t there. That didn’t mean there was anything to worry about. He’d made it clear that when you find the one you are meant to be with, you hang on tight.
She pushed the door open. Lights burned bright in the living room.
Brek never left the lights on. Something was wrong.
Really, really wrong.
Her pulse quickened, taunting her as her feet seemed to move on their own through the hallway to the bedroom. She flicked on the light.
His things were gone.
Not that he had a lot of them, but the motorcycle jacket he always tossed over her vanity was absent. Socks that never made it to the laundry bin had disappeared. The crack in her heart widened past a dull ache to full pain.
She tossed open the closet and the rucksack usually shoved on the top shelf wasn’t there.
The fracture trenched deeper as she moved through the fog in her head to the bathroom. His razor was gone.
He’d actually left.
He’d left her.
The blood in her veins dipped like when an airplane was landing and there was that millisecond where the body was in free fall. Except the feeling didn’t vanish. The landing gear wasn’t going to save her, and Brek wasn’t there to catch her.
A manila envelope propped on her pillow caught her eye.
No.
She crawled onto the bed she had made that morning. The one they had shared the night before.
The seal on the envelope slipped open, and she dumped the pages to the bedspread. A sob caught in her soul. She curled into a protective ball, but it wasn’t enough. The pieces of her heart scattered to the wind.
He’d left the drawing of the lily he made for her…and his compass.
Chapter Twenty-Five
One Week After Claire & Dean’s Wedding
Velma crawled onto the bed, her phone against her ear, and waited for the tone to beep on Brek’s voice mail. A week had passed, and he still refused to talk to her. She reached for the drawing of his compass and pressed it against her chest.
“Brek, hey, it’s me.” She tucked her bare feet under her thighs, running a hand into the hair at her temple.
“Jase asked me to say hi…you know, since you’re not picking up his calls, either. Actually, he used a lot of cussing that I’m sure you’d appreciate, but I told him I wouldn’t be repeating those words.” She paused and pushed a pillow behind her head. It still smelled a little like Brek, so she couldn’t bring herself to wash the pillowcase.
All week, she’d called him every night at seven and left a message. He had yet to respond.
“Your mom and Aspen are worried, too. I get that you’re angry at me, but could you call them?” She squeezed her eyes shut against the reality of her new world.
“Aspen got your text, but she would really like to talk to you.” He had only checked in once since his big disappearing act to assure his family he was alive. Everyone was still worried, though. Velma had explained to them why he’d left, expecting them to hate her.
They didn’t, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with that, so she decided to embrace it. Aspen stopped by regularly with the baby, and Pam called all the time to check in. Claire made it a point to call from her honeymoon. Claire and Dean had been great about the whole thing, even going so far as trying to make Velma’s spreadsheets a joke they could laugh about at future Thanksgiving dinners.
While Velma appreciated their support, what Dean thought didn’t matter anymore. The only man who mattered had left.
“I went shopping with Aspen for a baby swing after work,” she continued. “She’s hoping it might help Bronson calm down a little easier. I offered to stop by tomorrow and watch him for a little while so she and Jacob can have a break. Work’s going well. You know how it is.”
These one-way conversations were mentally exhausting, but she wouldn’t give up on him. On them.
“Oh, and Jase finally agreed to buy disability insurance.” She laughed, but her heart wasn’t in it. “He’ll thank me someday, if he gets hurt and can’t run the shop. I think I’ve also convinced him to do some commercial real estate investing while the market’s still down.” She paused, the weight of the oxygen in the room too heavy. “You probably stopped listening about two minutes ago…but, Brek, I miss you. Okay. I guess I’ll call you tomorrow? Same time. Night.”
Velma tossed her phone on the bedside table with his drawing and did what she had done every evening for the past week. She held tight to the black tee he’d forgotten in the hamper and inhaled her drug of choice—Brek’s scent.
The tears started. She let them fall until they wouldn’t come anymore.
Her eyes grew heavy, and she burrowed into the bedding, drifting until sleep took hold.
&nb
sp; Her phone buzzed, jostling her from the honey-coated haze of fatigue. She fumbled through the darkness and slid her thumb across the screen to turn it on before she opened her eyes. “Hello?”
It sounded more like “’Lo.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello?”
Silence met her on the line. She peeled her eyes open and glanced at the screen.
“Brek?” She sat up abruptly, a spike of adrenaline hitting her core.
“Yeah,” the word came out as a half grunt, half exhale. He sounded exhausted.
She glanced to her alarm. The clock read a little after midnight.
Her mouth open, she couldn’t get her lips to move. All the unsaid words between them jammed against her tongue. She’d rehearsed this so many times, and now she couldn’t remember what to say.
“Are you okay?” That was a good start.
He didn’t answer. That was all right, though. Talking to herself had become second nature.
“I’ve been so worried. I just wanted to—” she started.
“You’ve got to stop calling.” He had never sounded so tired.
She dropped back on the bed, her legs still tangled in the sheets, her breathing stalled. What had she expected him to say? Of course he wanted her to leave him alone.
“I checked in with Ma tonight,” he continued. “I’ll call Aspen tomorrow when she’s awake. I won’t call you again. It’s time for both of us to move on.”
No. That’s not what you did when you loved someone; you held tight. Especially when they loved you, too.
“Where are you?” Velma clenched the top sheet toward her chest and curled into herself. “Just tell me where you are, and I’ll come there and we’ll sort this out. I know I messed up. It doesn’t cha—”
“We’ve talked about this shit enough for a lifetime. Time to stop talking and move along.”
“I don’t accept that,” she said, ignoring the fear curdling inside her.
His breaths were muffled against the speaker, like he was holding the phone too close to his lips. “You deserve better than a four.”
A pinching sting settled in the center of her chest. Not a quick poke, either. This was the kind that stuck around to remind a person pain still exists, even in the midst of numbness.
“And I deserve to be with someone who doesn’t think I’m a four,” he continued.
Oh. Oh God. Her mind went blank, and her mouth wouldn’t work to form words.
Not when he was right but also so wrong. Two plus two didn’t really equal…well…four in this instance.
“Time to move on, Velma. It was fun. Go find your ten.” He dealt the final blow, and the line went dead, mirroring her heartbeat for the briefest of seconds. His firm words pulsed like a living thing around her.
She stared at the blank screen on her cell, her blood pressure rising.
Oh. Heck. No.
“It was fun?” she said into the darkness, absolutely stunned.
Why would he say that? After everything they’d been through and all the promises?
He was trying to hurt her. That had to be it, so she would let him go and move on and find—who? Someone dull? Like freaking Wayne?
Brek had never been an idiot, but who had their eyes closed this time?
She kicked her feet over the side of the bed and traced her foot along the carpet until she found her slippers. Sliding them on, she clicked on the lamp and shuffled to the kitchen.
Strategy. She needed a solid plan to convince Brek to come back. Sure, she’d totally mucked everything up, but it couldn’t be too late. She refused to even consider that as a possibility.
Frantic, she rifled through the drawers for paper. She needed to write out a new plan. She rummaged for her notepad, and Sophie’s pink thank-you note with the gold embossing slipped through her fingertips. Velma lifted it from the drawer and skimmed the lines of cursive handwriting Sophie had sent after the middle-of-the-street wedding.
I gave up on love. Thank you for showing me I was wrong.
Velma paused and closed her eyes. She dropped the note, and it fluttered to the counter. Deep breaths. Everything would be fine, because she and Brek were meant to be together.
This time, she wouldn’t write out a plan to get Brek back. No, she would follow her heart…and show him the way home.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two Weeks After Claire & Dean’s Wedding
Velma sat at her desk and checked her cell phone. No voice mails. Despite Brek’s cease-and-desist request, she continued calling him every night.
A week had passed, and he still didn’t answer. A little twinge of pain hit every time she got his voice mail. The delete icon was likely his favorite button these days, and he probably didn’t even listen to the messages.
Her gut said to keep calling, so she did.
“Velma?” The receptionist’s voice came through her desk phone.
Velma pushed the talk button. “Yes?”
“Dean asked to meet you in the conference room.”
“Oh. Okay,” she replied.
They’d been working on a proposal for a new client this week. She headed to the conference room and pushed open the door. Claire sat beside him, with Aspen on a chair to her right, baby in her arms. Pam sat to his left, with Jase beside her.
Velma had been ambushed. Crud, she didn’t have time for this.
“Pull up a chair.” Dean pointed to the chair beside Aspen.
“What’s up?” Velma asked, suspicion continuing to rise in her blood. Cautious, she sat and crossed her legs under her black pencil skirt.
“Here, would you hold him?” Aspen plopped the baby right into Velma’s arms.
“What?” Velma glanced to the squishy bundle of snuggles.
Oh, hello. She inhaled the scent of baby powder.
“Now she won’t run,” Aspen said, clearly proud of her ingenuity.
“Run from what?” Velma did the bounce thing that came naturally when holding a baby. “And why do you all look so guilty?”
“Well…here’s the thing…” Jase grimaced.
Pam and Aspen didn’t meet her gaze.
“Anyone going to tell me what’s going on or should I just hang out with Bronson?” Velma asked, looking down to admire his teeny-tiny nose.
“We’ve decided it’s time for you to stop sulking.” Dean leaned forward, elbows on the desk.
She ran a fingertip across Bronson’s chunky cheek. “I’m not sulking.”
Sad, yes, but that’s because she felt like her heart had been ripped out and put back in upside down.
“Claire says you don’t eat.” Pam slid a paper grocery sack across the table toward Velma.
“It’s true,” Claire chimed in. “I saw your fridge. And your cupboards. There’s no food.”
All right, well, she hadn’t had much of an appetite since Brek took off.
“I eat. Is that why you came here, to tell me not to skip lunch?” Velma raised her eyebrows at the paper bag and glanced back to Pam.
“You’ve lost weight,” Jase accused.
Well, yes. One of the byproducts of heartache was apparently dropping a pant size. All those years of dieting, and in reality, she only needed to get her heart crushed. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Brek’s not here to take care of you, so that’s our job. Mom brought you cupcakes, and I brought baby therapy.” Aspen started digging through the sack and opened a bakery box.
“Claire?”
“Just be glad I didn’t call Mom in on this meeting,” Claire replied.
Their mother worried way more than she should. She’d have Velma’s refrigerator filled with meals from the church ladies if she caught wind that Velma wasn’t eating.
Velma shook her head slightly. “You came all the way down here to bring me cupcakes and have me babysit?”
Pam rubbed at her temples, her expression pained. “No, that’s only a temporary fix. We came down here to convince you to go get Brek.”
“His communi
cation has gone to crap, and we know that, wherever he is, he’s not eating, either,” Aspen added.
Velma shifted the munchkin in her arms. “What makes you think Brek wants me to get him?”
“He probably doesn’t know that he wants you to get him. Guys are dense like that.” Dean absently rubbed Claire’s back.
Velma cocked her head to the side. “He wants me to get him but doesn’t know that he wants me to get him?”
“Such is love.” Pam dug out a chocolate cupcake, dropped it on a paper plate, and slid it to Velma.
“First, we’ve got to find out where he’s run off to,” Aspen mused, gazing longingly at Velma’s cupcake.
“Give me a second.” Velma handed the baby back to his mother. She pushed the cupcake toward her, too. Without another word, Velma pulled the green file folder from her attaché case. She tucked her latest spreadsheet back inside the bag—Pam and Aspen didn’t need to see that.
Velma dropped the file onto the table. “Brek is on the Western Slope. A little town called Collbran. He’s been there since he left Denver.”
“How the fuck’d you find that out?” Jase snatched the file and flipped through it.
“I called his band members.” She glanced around the table. “You’re not the only ones who care about him.”
“Asshole’s staying at a bed-and-breakfast while we’re all sitting here worried? I’m gonna kick his ass.” Jase scanned Velma’s notes and came to the confirmation for Velma’s airline tickets.
Her legs suddenly shaky, she leaned against the cool metal of the table.
She’d bought the tickets online as soon as she’d found out where he had gone. She hoped like heck Brek would still be there when she arrived on Friday night. Even more, she prayed he wouldn’t immediately send her packing.
“You’re going to Collbran?” Dean asked, holding up the paper.
“Let me see that.” Jase reached for it.
Velma shrugged. She refused to think anything more about it until she was waiting for takeoff on the tarmac. “Well, he hasn’t come back. So, I’m going there. Any idea why he’d be there?”
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