He’d let her slip away once before. He’d be damned if he let it happen twice.
5
Brooke boiled the entire walk back to the shop, pounding the pavement so hard, she was surprised she hadn’t broken a heel on her designer (albeit sample sale) shoes.
Spend time together? What was Kyle thinking? They hadn’t spent time together in almost six years, and the last few days of their relationship were nothing to hold onto—if anything, they were something to forget.
They’d been arguing. A lot. Brooke had been given the opportunity of a lifetime—a job for a well-known designer, in New York City. It was an entry-level position, but it sure beat the women’s boutique on Main Street. It was her chance.
It was supposed to be their chance. That had been the plan, hadn’t it? They’d go to New York or Los Angeles or even Chicago—together. Two creative minds determined to make their mark. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was exciting. He’d get a day job while he built up a following for his furniture, shopping his designs at trendy boutiques. They’d go to gallery openings and charity events to network; they’d host dinner parties right on the hand-carved table that Kyle had honed as a wedding gift to her. They’d be a partnership. A team.
Only when the time came to go, Kyle changed course.
They’d fought. They’d argued. Neither one of them had backed down.
Brooke had eventually left. And Kyle didn’t come after her.
She’d waited. Kept the phone on, checked for messages even when her screen was blank. She’d resisted the urge to call, knowing that she’d only be repeating what she’d already said. That this was her dream. His dream. Their dream. That they were married. That they were supposed to be starting a life together.
That he wasn’t supposed to lock himself into a life in Blue Harbor out of guilt or obligation. That she didn’t want this for him.
That his father wouldn’t have, either.
But those were words she’d held back, knowing that they’d cut too deep, too soon after his father’s fatal heart attack.
Kyle was doing what he needed to do. And she, she was doing what she needed to do. Eventually, she stopped checking her phone. Stopped hoping for a message. Stopped believing that he would come to his senses, or miss her.
And eventually, she’d moved on with her new life, alone.
No, Brooke thought, as she finished out her first day at the shop, one eye on the window and the other on her spreadsheets, where she was business planning four seasons out, putting her into next spring. No, there was nothing good that could come from spending time with Kyle.
Well, other than getting him to agree to a quick and straightforward divorce.
*
By Friday afternoon, Brooke was almost hoping to see Kyle, if only to get things finished once and for all. If he didn’t stop by soon, she’d have to hunt him down, repeat her request, or take matters into her own hands and consult an attorney to draw up the paperwork on her terms. It was an option, but it wasn’t the one she wanted to take. She didn’t want to engage in petty arguments or try to get a cut of anything. She just wanted to make their lives officially separate. To do what she’d been doing for six years for the rest of her life. Build her career. Focus on her routine.
Make a plan she could stick to and count on.
She sucked in a breath as a customer swept out of the dressing room, her eyes shining and her smile radiant as she admired herself in the three-way gilded mirror. It was one of Brooke’s newer designs, one she had created with spring on the mind, in an off-white lace with spaghetti straps and an A-line skirt. The bodice was her favorite part of the dress, with a dramatic deep V-neck cut that highlighted the collarbone. It fit the customer perfectly.
“Spring brides are the prettiest brides,” the bride’s mother clucked from the corner.
Brooke opened her mouth to chime in that she had once been a late spring bride too, but fortunately she realized her error before she had a chance to dampen what was turning out to be a very pleasant ending to her work week.
“This dress fits you as if it were custom made for you,” Brooke said. “How do you feel in it?”
The bride sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly. In the mirror, she met Brooke’s eye. “Like it was made for me. It’s the one!”
Brooke managed not to show her excitement—or her surprise—by smiling serenely and saying, “Perfect.”
Because it was perfect. Not just the dress, but the fact that she had managed to sell one of her off-the-rack gowns in her opening week, and she had commissioned two others—Candy’s, and a lovely childhood friend of Jenna’s who wasn’t getting married until next winter, leaving Brooke with plenty of time to come up with some cold-weather concepts.
She moved back to her desk quickly to write up the invoice while the bride changed out of the gown.
“We’ll keep the dress here in the back room until your big day,” she explained. “And of course we’ll schedule your fittings closer to the date. Do you live in the area? I feel like I should know everyone, but then, I’ve been away for a while.”
The bride shook her head. “Pine Falls.”
The next town over. Brooke was quietly pleased to see that she was already drawing business beyond the border of Blue Harbor. With any luck, word would soon spread.
“Do you have anything for bridesmaids?” the bride asked hopefully.
Brooke hesitated. She didn’t want to spread herself too thin from the onset, but expanding
