My eyebrows raise.
“Politics. Okay.” I hold on to her gaze for a few extra seconds, and see the spark behind her eyes.
“My mom ran a lot of campaigns, and I’ve gotten really interested in that work.”
“I remember,” I say, still stuck on her eyes.
Her head pivots a tad, and her mouth pulls up into a suspicious smirk.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.
“You just look really happy, is all. It’s . . . it’s nice to see you that way.” I drop my gaze to her hand as it curls around my bicep. I wasn’t sure how she would look. The last visual I really have is one of her incredibly frightened. And that was my fault.
“It’s nice to see you happy, too,” she says. “You are, aren’t you, Brooks? Are you happy?”
A let out a short, breathy laugh and suck in my lower lip, finally peeling my focus away from her perfect face. I lean back, holding on to the edge of the bar as I stretch my back. Her hand slips from my arm at the same time.
“That’s a really hard question. Am I happy?”
“It shouldn’t be,” she says.
I nod.
“You’re probably right,” I admit, blinking my focus back to her.
She leans into me again, her hand tipping up my chin. It takes all self-control not to grab it and kiss the inside of her wrist.
“I’m always right, Brooks. Every. Single. Time.”
The way her lips part with a tiny breath takes me spiraling back to the first time I kissed her. Her mouth is intoxicating, but I can’t let that alone sway me into making such a monumental decision.
“How are you, really? Are you . . . okay?” I sink into her gaze, and breathing gets harder all of a sudden. This is what I came here for. To know for sure. To read her eyes and tell one way or another if I stole her glow with my dumb fucking life. If I broke her spirit. “Or did I . . .” My breath stutters, and I spin on my stool to face her head on.
Before I can get out another word, she rests her other hand on my face. I hold her wrists and try not to drown while looking at her.
“I miss you. I missus.But other than that, Brooks. Yes, I’m really,reallyokay.”
I nod, my movement tiny. “Yeah?”
Her lips curl up slightly. “Yeah.”
I match my breathing to hers, and slowly my hands glide down her arms, stopping at her elbows. I can’t seem to removed them completely. I’m afraid if I do, she’ll disappear.
I don’t know why I’m so afraid. She’s right here. All it would take is oneyesfrom me. One ask—let’s start over.But what if that was our end, and she’s better off now that she’s okay? That missing us is beautiful, and something we can both do without me fucking up her life. What if that wasn’t the end of everything, and there’s someone out there still looking for something my father stole? Or my mother stole? The baggage they left behind for me to clean up. If only I had one sign.
“I’m staying with Roddy. Maybe . . . maybe tomorrow we can talk more. I’d love to see the boys, and?—”
“Brooks, I don’t want to do anything just a little. I need to know if you’re coming back. All of you. All in. I’ll be okay, but I can’t get my hopes up again that there’s something here when it’s not.”
“But there is something,” I say, suddenly feeling the fight in my own chest.
She slides from her stool and steps between my legs, closing the distance between us until it’s nothing more than a few inches.
“Prove it.”
My universe, it always balances out. And I’ve had a lot of shit roll down the hill and bury me this last year. I’m due something good. I’m due a sign, a not-so-subtle nudge.
Perhaps the man was sitting across the bar this whole time. Or maybe I conjured him out of thin air, and he isn’t even real. Whatever the manifestation, real or not, I’m compelled to walk toward him and see.
