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chest. We had made so much progress. She’s even said she was beginning to believe she and I could work.

She stood. “I’ll book that flight.”

I watched her as she stiffly made for her bedroom.

In the next couple of hours, Brooke and I were like complete strangers. I watched helplessly as she packed and asked her one more time if I could go with her. Be there for her.

She remained cold, leaving no room for negotiation.

I went with her to the airport and she didn’t speak at all. She kept her gaze focused on the road.

Half an hour later, as I waved goodbye to her at the terminal, I knew that for us—it was over.

I couldn’t live like this. I wanted more from my relationship. I loved Brooke with all of my being, but we would never be intimately close. Anytime something happened that jolted her out of her normal life, she would close herself off until she had solved it.

I wanted something different. I needed a woman who would allow me to be there for her, just as I hoped she would be there for me. That woman was clearly not Brooke.

Emptiness sat in my chest where my heart should have been as I took a cab back home. I felt disjoined and as though I had lost my footing in the world. Pain rumbled through me.

A voice in my head tried to convince me not to be hasty in ending it with Brooke. But I felt as if a light had been shone on us, a light that enabled me to look at us objectively. And what I saw was not pretty or inspiring. We were together when things were good but apart when things were tough.

Who wanted to live like that?

Chapter Thirty-Four

Brooke

Two hours after I left New York, I texted Blaze to let him know I had arrived in Florida. I took a cab straight to the hospital.

The smell of antiseptic and other strong hospital scents assailed me as I walked through the double glass doors. I made my way to the reception where a blonde middle-aged woman sat. “Hi, I’m looking for my dad. His name is Robert Mathews,” the words tumbling out of my mouth.

“Give me a moment,” she said, a sympathetic look on her face. She was probably used to seeing distressed relatives.

I tapped my foot on the tiled floor as I waited. Fear coursed through my veins. I wasn’t close to my parents but they were all the family I had. Tears sprung to my eyes and I wiped them off with the sleeve of my jacket.

What if he died? My mom would not survive without my dad. Her life centered around him and without him in the world, hers would come to a grinding halt.

I wrapped my hands around myself to suppress the shiver working its way up from my feet. I suddenly felt cold. I thought about Blaze and wished he was here. He had offered but I’d refused, not wanting to impose on him.

My parents were my responsibility and my family. I needed to be with them.

“Miss?” the nice woman at the reception called. “Your father is on the fourth floor….”

I said thank you and sprinted towards the elevators, missing the rest of what she had been about to say. I jabbed at the elevator buttons until the doors opened.

I saw my mom as soon as I stepped out of the elevators.

She looked stunned to see me. “What are you doing here?” she said by way of greeting.

“To see Dad of course,” I said, taken aback by the question.

She looked ten years older. Fresh wrinkles had formed around her eyes. Her shoulders were slumped and she seemed smaller than I remembered. She took my hand and led me to the corner of the waiting room even if there was no other person paying attention to us. “Dad is very sick,” she said, her voice trembling. “He’s hooked to all sorts of machinery, Brooke. I have to be by his side. I don’t have time to be with you.”

My throat tightened painfully. “It’s not a social visit, Mom. We’re family. We should be together at this time.”

She stared at me. “Fine. You can see him.” She turned and made for the hallway.

I followed her, stewing at being made to feel as if I had committed a crime by wanting to be with my family.

Mom slowed down as she came to the end of the hallway and so did I. She pushed through some wooden double doors and as I followed her in, the atmosphere changed. I followed her to a reception area. She said something to the nurse.

“I’ll give you a few minutes,” she said crisply. “Mr. Mathews needs his rest. I’m sure you understand.”

I nodded and followed Mom down another wide hallway.

“He’s in here,” she said and entered a room.

My pulse raced as I entered the room and saw my dad hooked up to more machines than I could count. I took a hesitant step forward.

Mom went to his side. “Brooke is here to see you, love,” she said. “I told her she shouldn’t have. We were just fine the two of us, weren’t we?”

I swallowed down my anger and moved to the other side of the bed.

My dad looked so small, as if the bed had swallowed him up. Despite his fragility and the machines beeping around him, he wore a loving look as he looked at my mom. The change was unmistakable when he turned to look at me. The loving look was gone to be replaced by an impatient look and something else I could not interpret.

I took a step back as if he had slapped me.

“Say something,” Mom snapped.

I cleared my throat. “Hi Dad. How are you feeling?”

He blinked and tried to speak but nothing came out of his mouth. He turned away from me.

Tears welled up in my eyes. The room became airless. I stumbled back. I needed to get out for some

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