To apologize again and promise to do better.
But she deserved more than deflection.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I admitted. “I feel like I’m in a fog.”
“Has something happened? At work, family stuff?”
“No, nothing like that. Everything’s fine. I . . .” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence because I didn’t know how.
Brooke was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle.
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Always.”
“I like you, Skyler. You’re sweet and funny and reasonably good-looking.” A small smile. “But I’ve felt you pulling away since our first date. It seems like . . . like part of you is somewhere else, even when you’re right in front of me.”
The words landed somewhere in my chest, uncomfortable and true.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was that obvious.”
“It’s not obvious. I pay attention.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I don’t think you’re doing anything on purpose, and I don’t think it’s about me specifically. I think you’re working through something, even if you don’t know what it is yet.”
I stared at our joined hands, her fingers small and delicate against mine. She was beautiful and perfect. I should want this.
Why didn’t I want this?
Why didn’t I wanther?
“I think,” Brooke said slowly, “that maybe we should stop pretending this is going somewhere it’s not.”
My head snapped up. “Brooke—”
“It’s okay.” Her smile was sad but sincere. “I’m not angry. I’m not. These last few weeks have been fun, and you’ve been nothing but lovely; but I want someone who’s all in, you know? Someone who looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. You don’t look at me like that. I’m not sure you ever have.”
I knew she was right.
And the fact that I felt more relieved than disappointed told me everything I needed to know.
“I’m so sorry, Brooke,” I said, and meant it. “You deserve better than someone who’s half present.”
“I deserve someone who’s excited to be with me. But so do you, Sky.” She squeezed my hand again before letting go. “But I meant what I said about liking you. I’d hate to lose you because the romance part didn’t work out.”
“You want to stay friends?”
“I want to stay close friends, because that’s what we’ve become, I think. Somewhere along the way, we’d skipped past dating and went straight tocomfortable, which isn’t a bad thing. It’s just not what either of us was looking for.”
I blew out a breath and tried to keep the relief out of my eyes. “You’re handling this way better than I would.”
“Please. I’m going to go home, shove a bendy straw in a bottle of wine, and eat an entire pint of ice cream while watching sad movies; but I’ll do it knowing I made the right call.” She grinned. “And maybe in a few weeks, you can introduce me to one of your hot teammates. Fair trade?”
“Deal.” I laughed, surprised by how genuine it felt. “And I promise it won’t be Murph. I would never do that to you.”
We split the check, which she insisted on despite my protests. Outside the restaurant, the night air was warm and humid, which was typical Florida weather, even in January. Brooke hugged me tight, and I hugged her back, grateful for her honesty and grace.
“Figure out what’s going on in that head of yours,” she said against my shoulder. “And when you do, tell me. I’m curious.”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
