Brisé (21 page)

“And a doctor on-call.” He deadpans at me. I still don’t know how we became friends. “Do you want to tell me what happened over at Lucas’s?”

“I asked him to kiss me and he wouldn’t.”

“So you’re building him a treehouse so he will kiss you? We could have just gone to the mall and bought you a sexy outfit. I bet he would have changed his mind.” I can’t help it, I wipe the tears from my eyes from my laughter and actually thank my parents for sending Brett in my life when I needed him.

“No, dipshit. I’m rebuilding our foundation.” How does he not see what I am doing?

“I’m not pouring concrete. I draw the line somewhere.” Holy shit, I think I have met basset hounds smarter than him.

“Brett, she’s recreating their past and hoping to change their future,” James patiently explains to him.

“Glad he’s
your
happily ever after, James,” I sarcastically say. I get a dirty look accompanied by an eye roll from Brett, but seriously he definitely isn’t the brains in his relationship. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” He carb-loaded at lunch and that just made it more hysterical. “We are nailing boards to a tree, we aren’t running a ten mile race or dancing for ten hours straight.” James just laughs at me.

“I think you’re the pretty one in your relationship, Pheebs, if you think it’s going to be easy.” Please, our dads did it in like five hours. I have this.

After trying to nail the fourth step into the tree … I so don’t have this. I need power tools. I have been forbidden to touch the power tools. Mr. Nichols didn’t exactly say why, he just came out the back door and removed them from my hands and walked back inside, never speaking a word. Luckily, I have my dad’s saw that James knows how to work, and we had all the boards cut. I try again to hammer the board into the trunk of the tree, and I am exhausted. It’s getting dark, and I refuse to give up even if the blisters on my hands are begging me to. James has the floor installed and is working on the sides, Brett is supervising, and I’m trying to build the steps up to it.

“Do you wish you would‘ve called someone to build it now?” Brett mocks.

“Shut up,” I say through my teeth, his comment gave me a little extra fuel, and I got the nail to anchor in the tree. I wipe the sweat from my face and call up to James, “Let’s call it a night. We can finish tomorrow.” I’m defeated. I wanted this to be a symbolic gesture and instead it’s a colossal failure. It’s turning into what I actually made of our relationship, not what I wanted it to be.

“Hey, chin up. Thought that counts.” Brett throws his arm around my shoulders. I angrily wipe the tear that escaped. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” I murmur. I push away from him and go home. I lock myself in my room, sulking like a toddler, and berate myself. I shower and give myself a pep talk hoping things go better tomorrow. I fall into a deep sleep, exhausted from my activities today.

The next morning while pouring my coffee, I look out the kitchen window and notice the tree house is finished. I run outside and make my way up the ladder, only slipping on the boards I nailed. The others are sturdy. There is a note taped to the door, ‘NO GIRLS ALLOWED.’ What the hell happened here?

“You breaking my rules, already?” Luke hollers from the ground.

I scramble down, tumbling on the last boards. He catches me before I hit the ground, helping right me. “Did you do this?”

“I did.” His smile tells me he’s proud, but it brings back my feelings of failure. “Hey, why the sad face?”

“You told me to show you I was serious. I was doing that and you had to come in and fix my mistakes.”

“I didn’t fix your mistakes. You’ll still break your neck on those first four boards.”

“Not funny.” I feel so dejected. I don’t want to cry again, but I don’t know what else to do.

“What’s wrong, Twinkle?” My heart rate speeds up when he calls me that; it rolls off his tongue so naturally.

“I was trying to show you a new beginning. You tore down ours after I tore you apart. I get it. This was my grand gesture,” I wave towards the treehouse. “I was giving us a new foundation from our best memories.”

He grabs my chin, “And I was just doing what I should do. Helping you, working together, and making sure that the foundation won’t crack.”

“I feel like I failed.”

“You didn’t. You gave me back a huge piece of what I was missing. Hope. You gave me hope. Don’t go building your playhouse, I don’t want our daughter playing in it one day and it come crashing down on her head,” he says over his shoulder before walking in his door. I stand with my mouth wide open, staring at where he just vacated, replaying the words in my head.

“Pheebs, close your mouth,” Brett hollers from my door. I know his nosy ass just eavesdropped and heard everything. I don’t even care I am so damn happy right now. Time to step up my game.

I send him love notes via Brett and James. I take it all the way back to elementary with the boxes included to check yes or no. He always laughs, and I feel it healing my soul. He always makes his own box with ‘maybe’ and checks it. I send over a note asking him to meet me for dinner in the treehouse. He just checked the ‘yes’ box, and I’m elated.

I arrive early and place candles all over trying to make it romantic. We kind of skipped this part in our relationship, and I want it all with him. He looks disheveled when he sees me waiting on him, like he’s been running his fingers through his hair. He has no reason to be nervous. “Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” as awkward as it may seem, it is perfectly natural for us. We both start laughing, the tension melting away.

We both nibble on the food I prepared, feeling there’s something so much bigger going on. “I want to believe you, Phoebe.”

“You can, Luke. I promise. Ask anything of me, and it’s yours.” He is quiet for a minute.

Grabbing my hand, he says, “I bought a house in North Carolina. Leave with me right now. Run away with me tonight. Please, choose me.”

“Yes to all of that. I choose you every time.” I’m not immature enough to believe this solves all of our problems, but when he takes my lips in his, gently sealing our mouths together, I know we have jumped the biggest hurdle, and we will make it. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth before letting him take over, pushing his tongue in my mouth, swirling and rubbing against mine.

Chapter 25

Luke

She just chose me. Phoebe Wells just accepted the gauntlet I threw at her. She embraced that fucker, and now my lips are savoring hers. I feel at peace. After years of hoping, praying, and begging I’m finally granted solace. I can’t allow us to fuck it all up, but I can’t carry the burden all on my own. Right now, I can’t keep my lips off hers. I pull back, “Let’s go.”

She stands and offers me her hand. I laugh, it comes from the deepest part of me, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop feeling this joy. I jump up, grab a hold of her and swing her around. “Are you sure that’s smart? James did build the floor of this.”

“We’re on steady ground.” I mean more than the wooden planks underneath us.

“Finally,” she whispers.

“Forever.”

I let her down long enough so she can climb down the stairs, and I’m right behind her. “Do I need to pack?”

“No need. Hopefully we won’t be wearing clothes, but there are stores in North Carolina.” She grabs my hand leading me to the car. I believe she’s as eager as I am.

She pauses right before I open the door, “Can I get my purse? I need money and my identification. Plus, I want to grab my toothbrush.” She’s extremely nervous, and I find it adorable.

“Phoebe, go grab what you’re comfortable with. I need to let my parents know we’re taking off, and you need to let the bozos inside know.” Reaching up on her tiptoes she places a small kiss on my neck before running up to her house. “Five minutes, not a second longer.”

“I’ll be done in three,” she calls back. Suddenly I’m hit with the gravity of the situation. I’m disappearing with her, taking her away from everything that is familiar and forging a new start. There’s no question in my mind that I’m all in, and I see in her eyes she’s right here with me, but what happens when something else scares her? I shake that thought from my mind. If I go in with doubts it will end before it starts. I hurry up and grab my stuff, telling my parents the new plan. My dad just nods, but my mom is beaming. “Come back whole, Lucas.”

“I plan to,” I solemnly say to her. There is no other way. She’s waiting by my car when I emerge from the house. Fidgeting with her hair and looking all around, I feel the anticipation in the air. It isn’t all about sex, but we need to connect in that primal way. We need to expose ourselves at the inner layer and build a future. “Nervous?” I sneak up behind her.

Turning her eyes to me, she responds, “Elated. Nervous. Scared. Happy. Pick one. I need to know something before I get in the car.” Oh God, is she backing out before we begin this journey? “Can you forgive me?”

“Get in the car, Twinkle. We have all the time in the world to figure this out. I love you. That’ll have to be enough for now until we get to the house and can lay it all out there.”

“That’s enough.” Breathtaking. That’s what she is when she turns her eyes full of love and smiles. I kiss her forehead; tuck her in the car, and head to the driver’s side.

I have a long four hours to think. Between chatting about what we did in our years apart, I’ve kept the conversation light. Neither of us did anything Earth shattering. I went to school and worked, besides I had written her all those letters. She fills me in with stories of her treatment, touring, and what dancing under the lights was really like for her.

“I enjoyed it for all of five minutes. Dancing isn’t about being a star for me. I don’t know why I did it, why I felt it was so important. I know I went after it because I wanted my mom to be proud, but they would have been proud of me no matter what. It is grueling, Luke. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an honor to get to where I did, but it wasn’t what I wanted. The girls are bitchy, probably from lack of food; the hours are exhausting, and while it’s rewarding when you hear the audience’s praise or see the smile on their faces . . . it just becomes mundane. I want to see that smile on a child I teach. The moment when they get that pirouette they’ve worked for months on, or when they finally get the solo they auditioned for. That’s what it is for me.” Still my girl. I was worried she had changed at the core, but I shouldn’t have.

Her question has been running around in my mind the entire drive. Forgiveness. Isn’t that the crux of most issues? We all want absolution. Mistakes we make in life are what make us who we are. They can either destroy us or teach us, and forgiveness can do the same. Were her decisions wrong all those years ago? I don’t know. Did they hurt me? Yes, but you don’t go through life without pain. It’s a risk in love and life. Were my decisions wrong? I don’t believe they were, but she did. Did I cause her pain? Yes, and I only hope she’s gotten past it. What does forgiveness really mean? If I say I forgive her, does she get to let go of all her guilt and move on? Not necessarily because it isn’t up to me to heal her. Just as it isn’t up to her to heal me. It’s up to us as a unit to build each other up and deal with things . . . together. I don’t think one person can absolve you of your transgressions. Even if she forgives me, or vice versa, will it change the way we look at the situation? No. Will it change the past and each one or our decisions? No. So what’s the point of forgiveness? I think selfishly it will make me feel better, but it won’t truly change anything. If she needs the words, I will gladly give them to her because she’s my world.