Still, there was a part of her past that she hadn’t found again when she’d moved back to Blue Harbor, one she hadn’t even thought she wanted at the time. One perfect day that she would try to hold onto, not forget.
She walked to the back room, where the wedding dress she’d brought from her parents’ attic hung on the door, airing out from years in the trunk. She ran her fingers over the skirt and along the back row of buttons, remembering how her mother had carefully fastened each one and then squeezed her shoulders, staring at their reflection in the mirror.
It had been such a happy day.
Without thinking about it, Brooke slipped out of the dress she was wearing and carefully maneuvered the gown off its hanger, half-surprised to find that it still fit. She walked into the dressing room, her breath catching as she approached the three-way mirror, and she closed her eyes against the image, allowing herself to remember the feel of this gown, the walk down the aisle, the image of Kyle waiting for her, grinning that boyish smile of his. She’d suddenly felt so shy.
But oh, she’d never been more certain.
In the storefront, the door jangled and her eyes sprung open. Candy, probably, back for her sketches, reconsidering the train length, no doubt. Twenty-five feet was…cumbersome. To put it lightly.
The skirt of the gown swished as she turned, and her mouth fell when she saw Kyle standing in the opening to the dressing rooms, staring at her with the same sense of wonder in his eyes he’d had all those years back when she’d first worn it.
“Kyle.” She swallowed hard, feeling the need to explain, but not sure what to even say. She owned a wedding dress shop. She could claim this was research. But they both knew that wasn’t the case. He knew her too well.
Then. And now.
“The door was unlocked,” he said. He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “That dress…”
She couldn’t believe he remembered it. But then, he remembered everything, didn’t he?
Her heart felt heavy when she thought of the dates, the thought he’d put into them, the way she’d kept her guard up. Maybe rightfully so.
“You altered it yourself,” he said. “You even thought about making your own, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to do it.”
“Really?” She’d forgotten the doubt. She’d forgotten a lot.
He nodded. “It’s funny how that worked out full circle. Now here you are.”
She nodded, trying to swallow back the lump in her throat. “Now here I am. Back in Blue Harbor. Giving other people their perfect day. It’s hard not to feel like I’ve given up a lot, and not just my dreams of making it big in New York.”
She gave him a pleading look, one that was part apology, part desperation, because what was done was done, there was no going back now. They’d made their choices, years ago, and here they stood, as two separate people, who used to mean everything to each other.
“Sometimes our dreams take a different shape.” He gave her a sad smile. “Besides, you didn’t give up on yours; you just altered it a bit. Whereas I…” He pulled in a big breath. “I gave up on my dream a long time ago, managed to forget about it, really, but you…you helped me remember what I once wanted.”
She stared at him, a smile creeping at the corners of her mouth. “You’re going to start designing furniture again.”
He nodded. “But that’s not all, Brooke. That’s not enough. It was never enough. And it never could be. That dream…it only really mattered because you were a part of it. We imagined that life together.”
“Kyle, I—” She didn’t need the loan, not really. She could close the shop on more days, use them to sew. She could compromise. She could give up her dream so he could have his.
So they could be together.
But he held up a hand, stopping her. “Please. There’s something I need to say. Something you need to know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked her in the eye. “I’m not selling the house.”
She blinked, unsure of what to say to that. “Okay.”
“The bar was all I had left of my father, Brooke. But that house…it was all I had left of you.”
Tears stung her eyes as he stepped toward her. “I didn’t support your dreams before, you were right.”
“No, Kyle,” she said sadly. “We didn’t support each other. We couldn’t. We wanted two different things.”
“All I ever wanted was you,” he said quietly. “I lost you once, Brooke. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“What are you saying?” she whispered.
“I’m saying that I love you, Brooke. I never stopped. And I don’t think that I ever will. You were my past. My present. And I never stopped wishing or hoping that somehow, you’d be my future.”
A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away, even though she was smiling now, straight from the heart. “We lost a lot of time, Kyle.”
“What’s six years when we could have sixty more?” He grinned. “You never did give me that sixth date. And I have a pretty good idea for it.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Flowers,” he said, stepping toward her. “Music. Dancing. Yes, again,” he added before she could stop him. “You. Me. All of our nearest and dearest.”
She blinked at him, wondering if he was actually saying what she thought he was saying.
“Kyle.” The words choked out of her, but she wasn’t going to try to stop him.
She stared at him as he dropped to one knee and opened his palm to reveal a small circle of grapevines. It was dried out, brittle even, but it was the first ring he’d
