Brooke worries at her bottom lip.
“Please.” Valeria reaches for Brooke.
Brooke’s hands close into tight fists, fingernails biting into her palms. Her eyes roam over Valeria’s face.After a few seconds, she says, “Fine. Get in the car.”
Valeria glances back at her car parked in Clara and Alejandra’s driveway. “But I drove here.”
Brooke rolls her eyes, already turning away, already done. She heads straight for her car.
Panic spikes in Valeria’s chest. If Brooke gets in and shuts the door, that might be it. She quickly types a message into the group chat.
Valeria 7:43 p.m.:
Going for a drive with Brooke. My car is in your driveway. If you need to move it, the keys are in my purse by the front door. I’m sorry.
Valeria doesn’t wait for a reply. She shoves her phone in her pocket and jogs after her, yanks the passenger door open, and slips inside before Brooke can say a word. Valeria doesn’t chance a look at her vibrating phone; she knows it’s probably the girls telling her not to go. But she’s here now, and Brooke is already pulling out of her parking spot. Somewhere, dimly, she hopes the girls will understand.
Brooke and Valeria don’t say a word as Brooke drives them through town. The silence is broken only by the turn signal and the soft hum of a song on the radio.
By the time Brooke pulls into her apartment complex, Valeria has resigned herself to silence. She doesn’t want to be the one to break it. She doesn’t know what the right thing to do is; she never really knows with Brooke. Silence has yet to fail her, though.
Once Brooke parks, they climb out of the car and start through the buildings. They walk side by side, but the distance between them is glaring. Valeria can tellBrooke is trying to put as much distance between them as possible, without actually walking away.
They reach Brooke’s door, and the moment Valeria steps inside, it feels less like entering someone else’s apartment and more like crossing into her own. It’s impossible for it not to. Half the things here were once theirs. The couch they argued over and bought anyway. The chipped mug Valeria always reached for without thinking. The artwork, the shelves, the books. Things that once belonged in the life they built together are now divided between two apartments.
Valeria makes her way to the white couch in the center of the living room and sits. Brooke follows, settling beside her, one leg tucked under her, an arm draped along the back of the couch.
“Talk,” Brooke says, her voice sharp enough to make Valeria flinch.
“I missed you,” Valeria says, frowning. She knows Brooke will probably shrug it off, but she needs to say it anyway. It’s pathetic, maybe, but it’s true.
Brooke lets out a dry laugh, teetering on a scoff. “Please. You looked pretty cozy with her.”
“I told you, she’s a friend.”
Brooke tilts her head, eyes narrowing. She doesn’t believe her. Valeria will say it as many times as she needs to, because it’s true and she needs Brooke to understand.
“Just a friend, Brooke. I promise.”
Brooke’s lips part as if she’s about to speak, but Valeria cuts her off before the words can form. She knows what Brooke wants to say—the same old argument, the same concern, the same doubt, dressed up in new words—and honestly, she doesn’t want to hear it.
Her voice comes out tight, with a slight edge of panic. “Brooke, I’m not seeing her or anyone else.” She swallows, fingers curling at her sides. “I promised you I wouldn’t, and I meant it.” Her gaze drops for a second before lifting again, almost pleading. “I’ve kept that promise—every day. Even when we’re apart, it’s still just you. I love you. You’re the only one I want, and if there’s a tiny chance you’ll come back to me, I will always wait.” Valeria gently strokes Brooke’s cheek with the back of her fingers, and Brooke’s gaze snaps away. After a few seconds, it comes back, searching Valeria’s face, her jaw working, thoughts racing behind her deep blues.
Finally, Brooke exhales softly, tension slowly draining from her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” she says at last, her voice cracking on the words. “I’m sorry, I know that, but when I saw you with her, something in me unraveled. My mind ran to places I didn’t want it to go, places I couldn’t pull myself back from. The thought of you with someone else hurts more than I know how to deal with.” Her voice falters. “And even though you’ve told me you won’t date around when we’re separated, every time we fight and stop talking, that fear is always in the back of my mind. I know we’re complicated, but I don’t want to lose you.”
“Then stop leaving,” Valeria says quietly, scooting closer. Brooke doesn’t back away, but she doesn’t reach for her either, and to Valeria, that’s a lifeline.
“It helps me to be away from you when we’re arguing,” Brooke says, guilt laced into every word. “When things get tense, I just ... I need space to breathe. To try and see things the way you do. Then, when I’ve calmed down, I don’t know how to come back.” Her eyes glisten. “So I stay away, even when it’s killing me. Even when all I want is you, it’s torture. I swear it is.”
“I know,” Valeria whispers. “It’s torture for me, too.”
“I missed you,” Brooke murmurs, finally breaking, wrapping her arms around Valeria, and holding on to her tightly. Valeria pulls her close, breathing in her scent, grounding herself in it.
“I don’t know how we keep ending up here,” Valeria says, her voice soft against the curve of Brooke’s neck. “No matter what we do, we always circle back to the same fights.”
Brooke exhales, a sound that’s half laugh, half defeat, and rests her forehead against Valeria’s shoulder. “It’s a cycle I don’t know how to break,” she admits. “No matter how much I love you. Every time I leave, I tell myself it’s the last time. That I won’t do it again, that I won’t walk away, but every time I do, and I don’t know how to stop now.”
