by J. L. Perry
The weekend went fast. I was starting to hate Mondays because it meant I had to leave Brooke. Going back to work didn’t worry me. Leaving her was the part I hated. Our weekends together were great. I loved every second of it. I kissed her goodbye after breakfast. “Do you want to meet for lunch?”
“Absolutely,” she said, smiling.
I organised for Chris to come back and get her just before lunchtime.
Brooke
After meeting Logan for lunch, Chris dropped me back at the penthouse. It was so hard leaving Logan, and I could tell he felt the same. In the short time that we had been together, it surprised me how attached we had become.
As I walked into the lobby, I saw John waiting for me. Shocked, I asked, “When did you get out of hospital?”
“Last night. Brooke, I wanted to come and talk to you,” he said nervously. “I wanted to apologise for what my wife did to you.”
“John, you don’t need to apologise. I’d just like to pretend that it never happened.” “I had no idea that she was going to come here that night. I hope you aren’t angry at me.”
“Believe me, I’m not upset with you. Would you like to come up for coffee?”
Smiling, he said, “I’d like that.” I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk with him about any of this, but I knew I would have to face it sooner or later.
When we got out of the elevator, I walked into the kitchen, John following. “Have a seat, John.”
Jill wasn’t here. She told me earlier that she had some shopping to do and errands to run, and wouldn’t be back until later this afternoon. I was glad in a way because it gave us some privacy.
While I was making the coffee, I asked, “So, how are you feeling?” I could tell he had lost some weight, and he also looked like he’d aged a bit…his hair was slightly greyer.
“A lot better, thanks. Happy to be out of the hospital. Listen, Brooke, I asked my wife for a divorce and I’m sure that was the motive behind her visit. Can you tell me what happened?” I wasn’t comfortable bringing it all back up, but I was interested to see what he had to say about it.
When I repeated everything his wife had said to me, I could tell he was upset. He chuckled when I said that I had called her a cold-hearted bitch. “I’m sorry I laughed,” he said, “but I couldn’t have said it better myself. I’m sure that didn’t go down well.”
“No, it didn’t,” I replied with a smirk. I didn’t find any of this amusing, but I was glad that I had said that to her. “That was when she slapped me.”
I was sitting opposite him as we talked, and was surprised when he put his hand on top of mine. “I am so sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I wish she didn’t come to see you. She was angry at me, and she took it out on you.”
He assured me that my mother wasn’t any of the things his wife had said, but I already knew that. Then he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and passed it to me.
“What is this?” I asked apprehensively. Even though I asked, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear the answer.
“It is something I have treasured for the past twenty-six years,” he said sadly. “I thought you might like it.”
I opened the envelope and was surprised to find two sheets of photos, the ones from the photo booths. There were four photos of my mother and father on each sheet. Gosh, they looked so happy. My hands were shaking and I could feel my heart racing as I slid them out of the envelope. In one of the photos, my mum and John were kissing, but the one where they were making a funny face made me smile.
The one that stuck out to me the most was one where they were staring at each other, smiling. That picture confirmed everything my mother had always said. You could tell they were in love because it was written all over their faces. They both looked so young. My mother looked so beautiful, and my father was very handsome. I could see why she had fallen for him.
I felt a tear run down my face. I looked up at my father and gave him a small smile. “Thank you, John,” I whispered.
I miss my mum so much!
“It saddens me to think that you’ll only have photos of your parents together,” he replied softly, putting his head down.
I reached across the breakfast bar and put my hand on top of his. “I will treasure them, just like you did.”
“They were taken only a few days before you mother told me she was pregnant,” he said. “I have so many regrets, Brooke. I wish things would have turned out differently. I missed seeing you grow up into the beautiful woman you are today. I also missed out on spending my life with the woman I loved. She was my soul mate.”
“I don’t think she ever stopped loving you,” I replied, looking over at him. Now we both had tears in our eyes. “As far as I know, she had never been with another man. Whenever she talked about you, I could tell she still loved you, but there was always sadness in her eyes. I know she wished that things had turned out differently.” He put his head in his hands and started to cry.
“I will never forgive myself for what I did to her that day,” he sobbed. “And I will never even get the chance to tell her how sorry I am.” He looked up at me, and it tore at my heart to see him like this. I could tell he was really hurting. “All I can say to you, sweetheart, is I am sorry. So…so sorry for everything I put you both through.”
“Can you wait here for a minute?” I asked. “There is something I want to show you.” I quickly ran up to my room and got my photo album.
After sitting down beside him, I passed him the album. On the first page were two photos of me from the day I was born. One was a close-up of me on my own, and the other was one of my mother holding me. It was taken in the hospital, so I presume the nurse had taken it for her. I looked over at him and saw a tear fall down his cheek. I put my hand on top of his again and squeezed it.
He whispered, “I wish I could have been there that day.”
I am sure my mum wished the same thing, I thought.
We looked through the rest of the book together, and I recounted stories of my childhood. There was one photo of my mother. She must have been in her early thirties. Considering how tough her life had become, she had aged really well and hadn’t changed much over the years. The only real difference was her hair. It was shorter. It was cut into a bob style, just above her shoulders.
He put his finger on the page and ran it softly over my mother’s face. “She is still as beautiful here as she was the first day I saw her,” he said with a smile. It touched me deeply to see how much love he still had for her.
When he finished looking at the album, he closed it. Then turned to face me. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. “Apart from the time I spent with your mother, this has been one of the most special times in my life.” I don’t know what came over me, but I leaned forward and hugged him. I still hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d done to my mother, but I was happy he was here, and thankful that we had shared this moment together.
We talked for a little bit longer, and he told me some stories of the things he and my mother had done together. I also shared more stories about my childhood.
He expressed that not a day has gone by that he hadn’t thought of her or missed her. It was kind of nice to think someone else loved her and missed her as much as I did. It had always been just the two of us until now. For the last seven years, I was certain that I was the only person on earth who thought about her and wished she was still here. I was wrong.
The anger I’ve felt towards him for most of my life was still there. You can’t just turn that off. I don’t know if it will ever fully go away, but I felt today was a step in right direction. When he abandoned her all those years ago, she was truly all alone. It must have been so hard for her.
My grandmother had died in a car accident when my mother was nine. My grandfather had been driving. My mother told me that he started to drink heavily after that, and could no longer look after her. So she was sent to live with her grandmother about a year after her mother died.
Her father continu
ed to drink heavily and died of a heart attack when she was fourteen and, sadly, her grandmother died when she was seventeen. After that, she was on her own…until I was born. My mother’s life had been tough, even before she met my father.
Thankfully, my grandmother had a little bit of money saved when she died, which she left for my mother. That was how she survived. As for the university, she was lucky to have been offered a scholarship. It was just unfortunate that she never got a chance to see that through.
I asked John if he had driven here today, and he told me he had. “Are you up for a little drive?” I asked.
“Sure. Where do you want to go?”
I grabbed my purse. “To the cemetery to see my mother, if you are feeling up to it.”
“I would like that,” he replied, but I could tell he was a little apprehensive.
We arrived at the cemetery about thirty minutes later. I hadn’t been here for a few months because coming here was painful for me. It always made me sad when I walked away and left her here on her own. That’s why I didn’t come very often. I preferred to just remember her in my heart.
I asked John if we could stop at a florist because I wanted to buy my mum some of her favourite flowers. He insisted on coming in with me, and I was surprised when he picked up a few bunches of yellow roses.
“Why did you pick those?” I asked, surprised.
“They were the first kind of flower I had ever brought her.” I smiled on the inside. Now I finally knew why they had always been her favourite.
When I led him over to her gravesite, I knelt down to pull out few weeds that had grown since my last visit. I touched her headstone. “Hi, mum. I miss you so much.” I felt a tear run down my face. “I have brought someone with me today. I hope you don’t mind.”
I was still on my knees, and turned around to look at John. I noticed he had tears streaming down his face. He was just standing there, holding the flowers. He looked nervous and a bit frightened. He wiped his tears away as I reached out my hand to him and pulled him closer. He knelt down beside me, placing the roses next to her headstone. Then he gently ran the back of his hand over it.
“Hello, Maree. I’m so sorry for everything,” he said, and I noticed another tear run down his cheek. Neither of us said anything for a while. We just sat there in silence.
I looked over at John and his head was bowed. His hands were folded together in his lap. I’m not sure, but I think he was praying.
I felt my phone buzz in my pocket so I pulled it out to see who had messaged me. It was from Logan.
Hi, baby. I decided to leave work early because I was missing you. I was surprised to find you weren’t home. Is everything okay? Call me. I am worried about you.
Everything is fine, hot stuff. I will be home in about thirty minutes. Will explain everything then. x
Do you need me to pick you up or anything?
All good, babe. Will see you soon. xxx
After about ten more minutes, I asked John if he was ready to go. He nodded, so I stood up first, then put my hand out to help him up. Once he was on his feet, he just stood there, staring down at her grave. I felt tears fill my eyes again.
“This is always the hardest part for me,” I said. “I hate walking away and leaving her here all alone.”
John turned to face me and I could see the tears in his eyes, as well. He pulled me into a hug and said, “Oh, sweetheart, I feel the same way.”
We walked back to the car, and we didn’t say a word all the way home. I could tell he was deep in thought. The traffic was heavy so it took longer than I thought. When we pulled up outside the building, he put his hand on mine. “Thank you, Brooke. Would you mind if we went to the cemetery again sometime?”
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you today,” he said.
“Do you want to come up and see Logan before you leave?” He nodded, so we got out of the car and made our way into the lobby.
Logan
It had been nearly an hour since her last text and I was starting to worry. As I paced the floor, I thought about calling her, but I knew how much she hated my “mothering”, as she called it. When I noticed her photo album sitting on the breakfast bar earlier, it only made me worry more. Last time I found her looking through it, she was crying.
Relief flooded through me as I heard the elevator doors open. I was surprised to see that Brooke was with her father, and I smiled as I walked towards them. He was the last person I expected to see her with, and I was really happy to see them together.
Brooke came over to me and put her arms around me as she brushed her lips softly against mine. I put my hand out to shake John’s hand. “What are you guys up to?”
“We went to the cemetery for a while,” she said.
“That’s nice, baby,” I replied. I wrapped my arms around her, and looked over at John. He was smiling.
“Jill has dinner ready,” I said. “Would you like to join us, Uncle John?”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“Please stay,” Brooke said, and he nodded.
After dinner, John said that he was going to head home so I told Brooke I was going to see him to his car. I wanted to ask him how today had really gone. I knew Brooke would tell me everything, but if she thought there was something that would hurt my feelings, she would probably leave that part out.
Once we were in the elevator, I asked, “Okay, how did it really go today?”
“We had a great afternoon together,” he replied with a genuine smile. “There were a lot of tears but, apart from that, I loved spending time with her, getting to know her better.”
I could tell how happy he was, but I said, “Take it slow and don’t push her too hard. She is still hurting about the past. She will come around, if you just give her time.”
When I went back up to the penthouse, I found Brooke in the bedroom. “How did your day go with your father?” I asked, wrapping her in my arms.
“He came over to apologise for what his wife had done.” She walked over to the dresser and pulled out an envelope. “He also wanted to give me this,” she said, and passed me the photos of her mother and father. I still couldn’t get over how much Brooke and her mother looked alike. It was uncanny. My uncle was so young in the photos. As I passed them back to her, she gave me a small smile.
“How are you coping with all this?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I still have a lot of mixed emotions. I just need some time to process everything.”
“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” I said. “You know I love my uncle, but my first priority will always be you.”
She took a step towards me and wrapped her arms around me. “Have I told you today how much I love you?” she asked.
“No, but you can show me if you like,” I replied, which earned me a slap on my arm.
I picked her up, saying, “Come and shower with me, and you can show me how much you love me.” This time, she smiled.
****
The next few weeks went by fast. I was busy trying to organise Brooke’s birthday present. Claire, my parents, John, and Michelle were all helping, which was great. Most of the work had to be done during the day so Brooke wouldn’t become suspicious. The builders were working overtime and, so far, everything was on schedule.
Brooke and I had both gone back to Melbourne for a few days last week. I’d hired someone to run the Melbourne side of the business. He was originally from Sydney so I needed to spend some time with him to get him acquainted with everything.
His name was Jim Maloney. He’d been working for my company for over twenty years. My dad was happy with the choice I had made, as well, because Jim had worked for my dad before I had taken over. His wife had died some years ago, and he was caring for his son, Connor, on his own. He said he was happy to be able to move away and get a fresh start.
I would still be in charge and all the big decisions would have to be cleared by me, but now I w
ouldn’t have to spend so much time in Melbourne.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Logan
The day had finally arrived. Brooke’s birthday. I had so many feelings running through me when I woke. I was excited, but also nervous. The way Brooke acted whenever I tried to spend money on her in the past had me worried. I really hoped she wouldn’t be angry with me when I gave her the present tonight—considering it had cost me a few million.
To me, it was only money, which I had plenty of. Making all her dreams come true was all I really wanted to do. I prayed she would see the true meaning behind my gift.
I’d purchased something small to give her when she woke up because I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t giving her anything. It was some custom jewellery I had made for her by a jeweller friend of mine.
She was still fast asleep in my arms and I didn’t want to wake her so I just lay there, patiently waiting. Finally, she stirred. “Happy birthday, princess,” I whispered.
She quickly raised her head up so she could look at me. “You remembered,” she said in a shocked voice.
“Of course I remembered!” She still had a sleepy look on her face when she smiled at me. I leaned over to the bedside table and pulled out a small gift bag and handed it to her.
She smiled at me again. I loved her smile because her whole face lit up. “You didn’t have to get me present,” she said.
I sat us both up so she could open it. “A birthday wouldn’t be the same without presents.”
She looked at me with a serious look on her face. “Do I still get birthday sex?”
I burst out laughing. “Of course you get birthday sex, baby,” I replied with a grin. This girl of mine was insatiable, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t love it. “Open your presents first,” I added. “And then we can work on the birthday sex.”