by A. D. Ryan
Needless to say, two weeks ago, when my father learned that the guys at work had decided to throw me a party upon finding out my birthday was looming, he felt it only right to forewarn me. He even offered to order them to forget it, but I couldn’t let them down like that, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t keep running away from it. It was upon my telling him it was fine that he volunteered their house in North Scottsdale.
The house that was now dark. Hiding the decorations for a celebration I wasn’t sure I was ready for. My hands shook, and my apprehension skyrocketed. Breathing became difficult, and I had to force myself to take a moment as I tried to calm down.
My usual confidence gave way to the panic, and I gripped the wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white, and my heart continued to pound against my ribs like it was trying its damndest to break free. Nervous as hell, I sat there for the better part of ten minutes before the pounding of blood in my ears finally subsided and my hands loosened their death grip on the wheel, my fingers numb and starting to tingle. I inhaled a deep, shaky breath and climbed out of my car, being sure to lock the doors before making my way up the long path.
Even though the temperature had dipped, the cool air making me shiver, I stopped for a moment and stood in the dim porch light, taking a few more deep, cleansing breaths before walking in to meet my fate. I counted to ten, pushing my hair back over my exposed shoulders…then twenty, smoothing the satiny fabric over my figure all the way down to my knees, adjusting the strapless top and making sure I wasn’t going to be the victim of an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction—wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of an already craptastic day? And then thirty, before reaching the front door.
As the door swung open, the light in the front room turned on, and I was accosted. “Surprise!” they all shouted. One look around the room, and I noticed that everyone I worked with was mingled amongst the crowd of my friends and family. It was an oddly comforting feeling to have them all here…and comforting wasn’t a feeling I was all too familiar with as of late.
Having already known about this for a while, I was forced to feign shock and bewilderment as I took in the rest of the room before me. It was heavily decorated with streamers and balloons, the guests all standing in the living room around the beautiful white couches my mom had reupholstered last month. There were several empty glasses on the dark cherry-colored coffee table that stood in the middle of the room, signaling that people had probably been here for a while, waiting for me to arrive. There were also two long tables, dressed in white linens, with all kinds of food and alcohol set out, and a fire burned in the corner fireplace, warming the room. What was usually a very modern and classy family room had been transformed into a celebration I never asked for…
“Oh my god! I can’t believe you guys did all of this,” I cried out, forcing my smile impossibly wider and truly hoping that no one would see through my façade. Chances were that almost everyone would buy it, but there were a select few who wouldn’t.
Toward the back of the crowd, my gaze fell upon a familiar pair of blue eyes, and I offered him a warm smile before turning to the people who were currently crowding around me. Eager to get to him, I made my way through the group of people, thanking each person who wished me a happy birthday, until I reached the beverage table against the back wall just outside the elaborate dining room.
The more I heard the words “Happy Birthday,” the more my anxiety increased and I felt the need for more alcohol than the human body could possibly handle.
With trembling hands, I grabbed one of the goblets and poured myself a glass of red wine, filling it more than the standard halfway point. As I brought the glass to my lips, I felt a familiar, and fleeting, touch on my lower back, and when I turned my head, I found myself looking into that same pair of baby blues that I spotted earlier.
There was something about him that always made me feel at ease. I think it had to do with him being pretty easy-going and someone you felt comfortable opening up to. Plus, his strength and protective nature made me feel safe. It was that feeling that drew me to him in the beginning, and I basked in the slight reprieve his presence offered me now.
“So, how long have you known about the party?” David’s smooth voice asked as he walked around to stand in front of me. I eyed him up and down appreciatively and couldn’t help but admire how extremely sexy he looked semi-dressed up in a pair of dark jeans, white dress shirt, and dark suit jacket. The top couple of buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the tiniest hint of his muscular neck, and the jacket was cut to emphasize the strong, athletic build of his six-foot frame. The dark brown hair atop his head wasn’t combed neatly, but it wasn’t a tousled mess either. Having been privy to his morning routines, I knew that it took more work to make it look that way than he wanted the world to know.
My laugh was soft, but sincere, as I answered his question. “A couple of weeks, actually.”
His smooth brow furrowed, his lips pursed in disappointment, and he cocked an eyebrow at me. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” he asked, eyeing me through his periphery as he poured himself a glass of cognac. I admired the strong cut of his jaw as I thought about how to answer.
“David, I think the fun is in me not being hospitalized and sedated for another nervous breakdown.” He wasn’t amused…even though I really did mean it as a joke. Winking, I scrunched my nose, hoping he’d see the playful nature of my words. “I’m just sayin’,” I countered before taking another pull from my glass. The warm, sweet liquid filled my mouth and throat as I swallowed it slowly, savoring it, willing it to give me the buzz I craved so badly, hoping it would quell the shaking in my hands.
Looking concerned, his eyes met mine. “How are you doing?” He knew about my past and what this day really meant to me, so it didn’t come as a surprise when his eyes reflected his concern.
“Fine.”
“Brooke…” he said softly, setting his short glass down and moving for me.
Before he could finish, I inhaled a steady breath and smiled. I knew he could see in my eyes that I was far from “fine”—that I was barely holding it together—but I couldn’t afford to lose my composure in a room full of people we both knew and worked with. He understood this and didn’t push, which made me appreciate what we had even more.
“Did you get my present?” David asked, changing the topic. The way his eyes locked on mine was…intense, but it was an intensity I welcomed and held onto like it was my only tie to this mortal plane.
With a coy smile, I nodded softly. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“You look fantastic,” he told me with a Cheshire cat grin as his eyes roamed my body almost hungrily. I had the strongest desire to do a little spin for him—tease him a little more, because it was what we did—but I knew it would draw too much attention from those we had worked so hard to keep everything from. Instead, I got caught up in his scorching eyes and bit the inside of my cheek gently as I imagined what he could possibly be thinking. I knew from past experience that it couldn’t be innocent.
Suddenly, I had the undeniable feeling in the pit of my stomach that we were being watched, so I nonchalantly turned my head while sipping at my wine to find my father eyeing the two of us. I smiled and raised my glass to him, only to have him raise his drink in return. I wasn’t naïve enough to think I’d be able to keep our relationship hidden forever, and I knew it was inevitable that he would find out about my relationship with David sooner or later. I just hoped to be able to tell him on my own terms just how serious we’d gotten.
“You know, my father is going to suspect something is up if we keep meeting like this,” I teased, returning my attention back to David.
He laughed softly as he disregarded my statement. “Brooke, we’re partners. As far as he knows, we’re discussing work.”
“That,” I said with a flick of my head back in my father’s direction before continuing, “is not the look of a father who thinks that this is simply a working relation
ship.”
I knew the instant that David’s eyes met Dad’s when he lifted his drink and nodded his head. I giggled softly into my glass when his eyes took on a look of fear and he gulped back the last ounce of his drink.
“Would it really be so bad if he knew?” David’s eyes begged me to finally admit the truth, however, I just wasn’t ready for the world to know. Everyone in this room already knew far too much about my personal life, and I just wanted to keep one tiny piece for myself.
Was that so bad?
This discussion was always a source of discord between us. He wanted to shout from the rooftop that we were together, and I just wanted to keep my private life…well, private. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if people found out; I just wasn’t ready. Why was that so hard to understand?
Instead of angering David tonight, I decided to try and keep the subject light. I cocked my right eyebrow at him and smirked. “You’ve seen him in the gallery, right? The man doesn’t miss,” I joked.
David’s eyes burned into mine with the intensity of the sun, and I shivered beneath the force of his stare. “I’m being serious, Brooke. We’ve been together for almost two years now. Isn’t it time to tell him?”
With a despondent sigh, I turned my head away. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt on his face as I denied him what he so desperately wanted from me. “It’s complicated…I’m complicated.” I paused for a moment, waiting for him to tell me he understood, but he didn’t. “Look, we can’t talk about this here. Let’s just enjoy the party, okay? Are you still coming over tonight?”
“Samuels.” My father’s voice was right behind me, but I felt fairly certain he hadn’t heard our conversation since David still seemed relatively calm. Though, his calm demeanor could have very well been an act, or it could have just been him not giving a damn anymore. The ball was in anyone’s court at this point.
“Captain,” David says, formally tipping his head.
My father moved to stand beside me as he continued to look at David. “You’re monopolizing the guest of honor here.” Dad wrapped his arm around my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze. I briefly wondered if he could sense the tension between us, and that was what drew him here.
“Dad, be nice. David was just wishing me a happy birthday, weren’t you?” I smiled up at David as his eyes moved between my father and me.
He ignored the question, his eyes telling me that this conversation was far from over. It was obvious that he had grown tired of the pretense, and I suddenly feared that he was done trying. Period. I didn’t want that, so I desperately hoped I could fix this. “Well, Brooke, I should go mingle.” He tossed a glance back toward a group of our coworkers and chuckled softly. I couldn’t tell if it was one of amusement or distrust. “O’Malley looks like he’s about to attempt a move on our new officer. I should probably go and intervene. Maybe remind him why that’s not a good idea.” Stepping around me, he flashed me a look. “Happy birthday. I’ll talk with you in a bit, all right?”
I pushed aside my feelings of unease and offered him a smile in return. “I’ll be around.”
“He's a good kid,” my dad said, causing my focus to shift from David's retreating form back to him. “You could do worse.”
Unsure what to say, I took a sip from my almost-empty glass and smiled at him as I swallowed my wine. “Yeah. He's a great partner.” While I already suspected he knew about my little tryst with David, I wasn’t quite ready to confirm it just yet.
My dad looked at me knowingly; I was foolish to think we'd gotten away with it this long. “Brookie,” he began, using the nickname he'd given me when I was three. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I assured him shakily. “Really.” It wasn't a complete lie; most days I was—with the exception of today, of course, because when this day rolled around, I found it hard to take a breath, let alone function at all. Usually, I was able to get up, shower, dress, and carry about my day just like everyone else. I laughed when something was funny, made jokes, and hung out with David without having him constantly worried that I was going to go into some kind of catatonic state.
Yes, most days I was as close to happy as I guessed I ever would be.
“So, are you enjoying yourself?” Dad asked tentatively.
And, just like that, my distraction from what today really meant disappeared, thrusting me right back into reality with one loaded question.
I took another sip of my wine and shrugged. “You and Mom did a great job decorating. The wine is good. And the food smells delicious,” I replied, sidestepping his original question.
I knew if I lied he’d see right through it, and then this conversation would take another turn entirely.
Too late.
My father’s eyes narrowed, and he scoffed lightly at my response. I dropped my eyes from his knowing stare, admiring the dark polish on my toes as they peeked out from the tiny holes in my shoes, and fingered the stem of my wine glass nervously. “You know how hard this is for me,” I reminded him softly, feeling the prickle of tears stinging my eyes. Had this party been thrown on any other day and not my actual birthday, I may have been a little more mentally sound.
May have been.
When I raised my head, his eyes saddened as he acknowledged his own empty glass. “It's hard for all of us, Brooke.”
I nodded in agreement. It wasn’t that I meant to be selfish, thinking that I had been the only one affected by the loss of Bobby. I wasn’t. My parents lost him, too. I knew this. The thing was, though, that Bobby and I were close. Closer than most siblings. Maybe it was a “twin thing” or maybe it was just a “sibling thing.” No one could be certain—all I knew was that when I lost Bobby that night, I lost the other half of myself, and I couldn’t be sure if I’d ever find it again.
The rest of the room was abuzz with laughter, talking, and music, but a heavy silence hung between my father and me, numbing me to everything else. When he cleared his throat, I looked back up at him to find the worry he had for me clearly etched on his face.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle it in my current state of mind. The last thing I wanted to do was become hysterical in front of everyone. Choking back a quiet sob and blinking away my tears, I stood on my toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to go out onto the patio for a breath of air. I’m fine, Daddy. I promise.”
I set my empty wine glass down on the kitchen table as I quickly passed through the abandoned kitchen and slid the patio door open before stepping out into the brisk night air. Being the tail-end of October, the night was always a bit more frigid in the desert, and it was only going to get colder. In an effort to keep warm, I wrapped my arms around myself and roughly rubbed my hands over them, hoping the friction would help a little.
The night sky was clear of clouds as I made my way toward the pool, and I could see the stars and the waxing crescent moon with perfect clarity. An unseasonal warm breeze, similar to the one I felt in the cemetery, picked up, and I felt that same overwhelming sense of peace fall over me as I stood alone outside. The coolness of autumn seemed to soften just enough that I was comfortable, and I finally felt at ease being cloaked in the darkness, away from all the prying eyes inside the house. It was as though I could breathe again without being under everyone’s watchful eyes. Inside was so bright, and I was the main focus of everyone’s attention. Part of me wondered if that was only because they were secretly waiting for me to completely melt down, or if it really was because it was my “special day.”
Probably the first, Brooke, I told myself with a sad sigh. Though I knew I deserved to be treated like I was made of porcelain today, it became a little unbearable after so long, and I had to wonder how much longer it would go on for. Surely after seven years it should have passed, right? The only reason I could think of that it kept me from moving on—that kept us all from moving on—was that we never were able to figure out what happened in the alley that night. Bobby’s murdere
r was never found, and his case remained unsolved and locked away in a cabinet of cold cases.
We lacked the closure that solving his case should have brought, and I was reminded of it most on this day: the anniversary of his death.
“Happy birthday, beautiful.” The sound of a very familiar voice from my past pulled me out of my silent torment. My body stiffened as a multitude of memories flooded my mind. These weren’t memories I openly welcomed, however; they were painful and just another reason that I was who I was.
I didn’t have to turn around to know exactly who had found me. Nick Evans. My ex. I whispered his name, and my voice shook before being carried off into the night. He must have sensed my unease, because he stopped walking toward me, based on the lack of his footsteps.
Very slowly, I turned to him, fear gripping at every part of me as I struggled to meet his eyes. Though, as soon as I did, I was lost in the warm, blue-green color. He looked…
Damn it, he looked good.
Dressed in dark jeans and a fitted gray sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and showing off his thick forearms, he took another step forward. His sandy-blond hair was longer than I remembered, but intentionally so and not like he’d simply forgotten to go to the hairdresser. I found my fingers itching to run through it to see if it was as soft as I remembered. He looked nervous, his face tight, back rigid.
Entranced as I was, I couldn’t ignore how anxious Nick’s sudden reappearance in my life made me. Maybe it was because he was there the night that Bobby died, or it could have been because not too long after that horrible night, he broke off our engagement and left me. There was no real explanation given, either. What was worse was that I never even saw it coming.
Nick was the sweetest boyfriend. Even though he was a total jock in high school and college, he had a soft side…maybe it was just for me. I liked to think so, anyway. He was always going above and beyond to please me. Always sending me flowers, taking me out to fancy dinners or dancing. It was rare that we didn’t spend our free time together…