And that’s okay. I know I’ve put everyone in a weird position by coming—and staying—here. The Bradshaws have done so much for me, and I’m insanely grateful. But I think we’ll all be a little happier when I have a place of my own.
Tobias will get his bed back. Family dinners will go back to being just family. No one will feel obligated to extend event invitations or scramble to find ways to include me.
And maybe then I’ll be able to think clearly instead of all my thoughts being dominated by the man sleeping only a few steps away each night.
After washing my hands, I go to the second stand and begin setting cookies across the tiers, doing my best to duplicate Deidre’s placement of both the treats and the flowers decorating around them. I’m not as creatively skilled as she is, so it’s not nearly as perfect as hers looks, but I don’t do half bad.
I’m kind of impressed with myself.
Once the cookies are done, Deidre enlists my help with lighting candles. That does take freaking forever, but eventually every votive and pillar is glowing prettily, adding warmth to the decorations and ambiance to the space.
It looks beautiful. The sort of style I would have picked for my wedding…if I had been allowed to have anything to do with it.
Guests begin arriving, and I do my best to keep the snack trays and beverage stations stocked while Mariah, Titus, and Deidre greet everyone. Technically, Deidre’s hired a whole serving staff to handle the food and drink, but I don’t really know anyone. Rather than sitting alone in a corner, I decide to stay busy by helping out.
I’m opening our tenth bottle of champagne when Deidre approaches with a woman I don’t know. They’re chatting about Deidre’s new cookbook and a television show she’s going to be recording in the fall. Since the server stationed at this area is busy mixing mimosas, I go ahead and add champagne to the glasses pre-prepped with strawberry slices.
I’m halfway down the line when the woman selects a glass, lifting it up to look at the bubbling liquid. “Is this from your partnership with Birch and Berry Vineyards?”
I almost drop the bottle at the mention of Matt’s family business.
“No.” Deidre’s eyes meet mine as she selects a glass of her own. “I dissolved that partnership weeks ago.”
Staring at my friend, I nearly overflow the next glass, shocked at the information I’ve just learned.
Deidre’s partnership with Matt was always a bit of a sore spot for me. Not because of Deidre, but because of Matt. The way he used our friendship to gain access to a woman who likely wouldn’t have given him the time of day without his connection to me. Every winery owner in the country wanted to partner with her, and I know the only reason she chose Birch and Berry was because Matt and I were engaged.
He had a very different opinionthough.
Deidre and her friend step away, and I pass the bottle off to the woman serving, offering up an excuse about being needed elsewhere. Stepping quickly and keeping my head down, I hurry out of the room, skipping the closest bathroom in favor of sneaking upstairs to one I’m sure no one else will visit.
Because I need a second alone.
Ducking into the bedroom I occupied before the flu hit me, I go straight into the attached bathroom, closing the door before leaning against the wall. Sliding down to my butt, I catch my head in my hands, breathing deep.
Why did I ever let Matt pressure me into setting up a meeting with her? Why did I let him pressure me into a lot of things? Quitting my job. Combining our money.
Getting married.
I didn’t want to do any of that, but he was relentless. Always framing things to make it sound like I’d be stupid to resist.
If I quit my job, I would have all the time in the world to spend however I wanted. I could take yoga classes. Volunteer. Relax.
If we combined our money, he could take the task of juggling finances off my plate. I wouldn’t have to worry about silly things like bills or credit reports.
It only made sense for us to get married. That way he could more easily take care of me. Everything that was his would also be mine. If there was ever an emergency, we could make decisions for each other.
It sounded so simple. And once I agreed to one, the rest fell like dominoes.
Until I had nothing.
Matt controlled everything.
He controlled me.
There’s a quiet knock at the door, followed by Deidre’s soft voice. “Brooke, honey? Can I come in?”
She doesn’t ask if I’m okay. Doesn’t question what made me leave so abruptly.
