Love, Hate & Us Read online

  Jesus, this sucks.

  I don’t want to hurt her. I’ve never wanted to hurt her, but I just can’t shake off the feeling that I’m missing out somehow. All my adult life, all my childhood has been spent with one person. Is it so wrong that I want the freedom to explore who I am? To live my life like Cade does and not worry about whether what I do or say will be best for us as a couple. I want what’s best for me.

  When you’ve been in a relationship for as long as we have, people stop seeing you as you. You stop being an individual and become part of someone else. When others talk about me, it’s never just me, it’s always Brooke and me. It never used to bother me so much but recently it’s become kind of...stifling.

  My cell starts to vibrate with an incoming call. For a moment I’m tempted to not look at the screen and ignore it, in case it’s Brooke, but curiosity gets the better of me.

  Cade.

  “Yo.”

  “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

  “Hello to you, too, brother.”

  “Don’t brother me, asshat. I’ve just got off a call with your fiancée. You need to call her.” The mention of Brooke sends a pang to my heart.

  “How was she?”

  “Scared. Heartbroken. Confused. Angry. Pick one, pick all of the above.”

  “You told her about the text I sent you, jerkoff? I asked you not to.”

  “I don’t care about what you asked me to do, dickhead. What you’re doing to her is cruel and she doesn’t deserve it.”

  “I know.”

  “She has been going out of her mind with worry,” he continues, “while you’ve been sitting on your ass, staring at the fluff in your navel, feeling sorry for yourself. What the hell is going on with you?”

  “People change.”

  “People don’t change overnight, Brody. Last time we spoke, you were looking forward to looking at wedding venues. So, what the fuck happened?”

  “Joely.” I answer quietly.

  “WHAT?” he yells down the line. “Please tell me that you have not got fucking involved with her!”

  “Well…”

  “She’s fucking toxic, man. If you’ve cheated on Brooke with that skank…”

  “Calm your tits, little brother. I haven’t cheated on Brooke.”

  “So, what?”

  “Joely is a complication.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m having to clean up yours and dad’s mess.”

  “Still doesn’t explain why the fuck you’re treating Brooke like shit.”

  “Like I said, people change.”

  “Pfft.” He scoffs.

  “Like you’re one to talk, Cade. Do I have to mention Hope?”

  “Low blow.”

  “But true.”

  “Talk to me then. Let me know where your head is at, because you are not sounding like my sensible older brother right now.”

  “That’s just it.”

  “What is?”

  “I’m tired of being sensible, Cade.” I scrub my hand over my face as I try to find the right words. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “When you were with Hope, did you ever feel like you wanted more? Like you wanted to see what was out there?”

  He lets out a sad laugh. “That’s what got me into the mess I’m in now, dude.”

  “I hear you.” I sigh, “I’ve only ever known life with Brooke. Is it so wrong that I want something different?”

  “Do you want an honest answer or one that’ll make you feel better about yourself?”

  “The first one.”

  “No, it’s not, but the way you’re going about it is making you look like a major douche. If you’re going to end it with Brooke, then just end it. Don’t sit there and lead her on, giving her a tiny bit of hope that you’ll change your mind.”

  “What if I do?”

  “Do what?”

  “Change my mind. What if I suddenly realize that I made a mistake and Brooke is what I want?”

  “Then you’ll have to cross that bridge when you come to it.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I broke my fucking heart,” he answers quietly.

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Don’t be, brother. It’s my own fault.”

  “Yeah but…still.”

  “Do me a favor. Think about what you really want. Don’t be blinded by feelings of missing out. Waking up with someone different each night isn’t all it’s cut out to be, believe me.”

  “You sure?”

  “It’s great at first.” He chuckles. “But it quickly wears thin, and then you start realizing that you let the best thing that ever happened to you go.” In all the years I’ve had the privilege of being Cade’s older brother, I’ve not once heard him sound so down. Like a man carrying a great weight on his shoulders. “Listen, dude, I have to go. I’ve got a sound check to do. Call me if you need anything. And for God’s sake, talk to Brooke.”

  “Thanks, man,” I say, ending the call.

  What the hell am I going to do?

  I spend the next few hours staring straight ahead as the light fades and turns to night, thinking of everything…of nothing as I turn everything over in my mind. The air turns chilly, yet still I don’t move. I stay that way until my cell pings with another message notification. A quick look lets me know that it’s from Brooke.

  Coward.

  Guess Cade told her about my message. Asshat.

  I start to type out my response before stopping myself. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep hurting her like I am. Brooke deserves the truth and she deserves to hear it from me in person. Not from my brother, but from me. If I want to end things with her, then I’ve got to stop thinking that there is an us anymore.

  I think that the hardest thing is getting up the courage to end it once and for all. Maybe I am a coward. Maybe I’m actually doing the right thing by sparing both of us a miserable future together. Who knows? But I need to finish things, for both our sakes.

  Brooke

  By noon the next day, I still hadn’t heard from Brody. I’d given up on the notion of him contacting me any time soon. If Brody wants to hide away in a cabin, then so be it. Who am I to chase after a man who no longer knows what he wants. He’ll have to come home and face me sooner or later.

  The many tears that I shed over him have long since dried. I don’t even feel any sadness, just a strange nothingness. It feels as though I’m dead inside. The only other time I felt like this was in the months after my parents died. Back then, I’d had Brody to pull me away from the edge of the dark abyss that I couldn’t see beyond. I never thought he’d be the reason that I come back to this place.

  I can’t be bothered to shower today, I sit festering in the t-shirt that I blindly pulled on in the dark last night. It’s only in the harsh light of day that I can see with bitter irony that it’s one of Brody’s old shirts.

  Maybe I should burn it.

  In my hands is the cold cup of coffee that I made first thing this morning; I’ve found it to be strangely comforting as I balance it on my knees while I stare out of the window. I’ve been trying to work out what I’ll need to do. How do you separate yourself from someone who has been your whole life for as long as you can remember?

  Obviously we’ll need to sell this house. I’m not sure whether Brody will want to move out right away or if we’ll stay under the same roof until it’s sold. I suppose one of us can move into the spare bedroom.

  It’s funny, I always thought that we would use that space for a nursery. I had it all planned out in my head. The earthy neutral colors with a teddy bear motif across one wall. In the corner nearest the window, we would place the old rocking chair that I’d picked up from a secondhand store for ten dollars and had spent quite a lot of my spare time lovingly restoring. I’d have hung pictures all around the room of Brody’s and my families so that the baby would take comfort from the smiling faces in the pho
tographs. That room has always represented the promise of our future, now it will represent the destruction of our relationship.

  We’ll both have to endure the Emmerton gossip train for a while. Old Mrs. Banks and her cronies will have a field day with this. Maybe I should start looking for jobs out of state, somewhere as far away as possible from this town. Somewhere hot and tropical. Somewhere where…where I don’t have to watch Brody move on. Where I don’t have to stand by while he falls in love with someone else, and marries them. Giving them the babies and the life that he promised me. Where people won’t give me pitying looks as I turn into Emmerton’s version of Miss. Havisham right before their very eyes.

  I think that might have been one of the main reasons that Hope left town. Not only did she have to contend with a broken heart, she had to do it with the whole world watching her. Hope couldn’t even go grocery shopping without having to endure the whispers and the stares or people asking her to sign a copy of the latest gossip mag that had Caden’s face splashed across its front page. I wish Hope was here right now. My beautiful, headstrong baby sister would know what to do. What to say. Somehow she’d make it better. Stop me from thinking too much about it.

  I think this is the longest Brody and I have gone without speaking to one another since we started dating. It doesn’t feel right. Everything feels so wrong, like my world has been knocked off of its axis. Of course Caden could have been lying or playing a mean trick on me like he did when we were kids. His way of getting me back for all the crap I’ve given him over the way he broke Hope’s heart. I wouldn’t put it past the selfish, entitled brat. He always did think that the world owed him.

  I just don’t understand it. This isn’t Brody. He wouldn’t be this cruel…not intentionally. And until he comes home, I’m stuck in the land of limbo.

  A whole week passes and still there is no word from Brody.

  Any hopes of laying low, curled up in a ball and waiting for him to return, have been dashed by the fact that I need to go to work. My boss had been very understanding about my need for time off while I searched for my missing fiancé. However, seeing as Brody isn’t in any immediate danger, he made it very clear that continuing to throw myself a pity party would probably result in the loss of my job.

  Fortunately, I’ll be out of sight, stuck doing back office duties. My boss hates anything that could make the bank look bad. And apparently, the assistant bank manager breaking up with her long-term, live-in fiancé via a text message, relayed by said fiancé’s superstar manwhore of a younger brother, counts as making the bank look bad. I should be thankful I’ll be out of the public’s gaze. He’s spared me from seeing the gossip train in action.

  As it is, Brody’s disappearance is the most newsworthy thing to happen in Emmerton since the married sixty-two-year old pastor got caught in a very compromising position with a twenty-year-old last year. As I predicted, at every place I have gone over the past week, people have been gossiping about Brody and me. Whether it’s the fact they just blatantly stand and stare at me or talk behind their hands so that they think I don’t know that I’m the subject of their conversations, people I’ve known since I was small now think that it’s okay to mock my life. I’ve never hated living in a small town as much as I do now.

  What hurts the most is the things that I’ve heard them say as I’ve walked by. Lies about how Brody found out I was cheating on him and had run off to the cabin to lick his wounds, that I’d murdered him in his sleep, or how Brody had had his head turned by the new girl in his office and didn’t want to cheat on me so he ended our relationship. I’m still at a loss about how anyone knew anything anyhow.

  My life has been reduced to counting down the minutes until I can head home to a cold, empty house. My evenings are spent searching the internet for information on what to do if you split up from your partner. We jointly own the home, however, Brody has enough money to buy me out. I wish I could say the same. I’m still not sure what I’ll do when Brody eventually turns up. It’s not like he can stay away forever, he still has to run McAllister Construction.

  The thing is, if Brody left Emmerton, his loss would be felt. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t be missed. In the eyes of the people here, I don’t contribute anything toward the town anyway. I don’t attend church, I don’t hang with the coffee clique, I don’t have any kids, and I don’t indulge in gossip. All I am to them is one of the orphan Elderhouse girls and nothing else.

  Brooke

  It’s with some relief that I turn onto my street at a little after six in the evening. Despite it being my day to finish early, a sudden influx of customers a couple of hours before closing meant that I was asked to stay on. I didn’t mind saying yes, it’s not like I have anyone to head home to.

  Lights shine out from most of the houses like beacons in the darkness. I envy the people in those houses. They haven’t come home to a cold, dark house every night this past week. They haven’t sat, staring into nothingness, while trying not to succumb to the desperate loneliness that threatens to engulf their soul. They haven’t questioned over and over whether their life has been a lie. No. They came home to light, love, and laughter.

  It comes as a shock when I see lights from my house blazing out into the black night, creating a warm, familiar glow. I briefly consider calling 911 before quickly dismissing the idea. No burglar would be stupid enough to leave the lights on while they rob me. On second thought…

  As I turn into the driveway, I notice the large SUV parked in front of the garage. The headlights on my car illuminate the tailgate so that I can clearly see the McAllister Construction logo on the back of the truck.

  Brody.

  For one beautiful moment, I’m overwhelmed with elation knowing that Brody is safe and that he’s finally home. Then that feeling of dread resurfaces at what he has come home to tell me. Whatever Brody has decided, he’s had eleven days to think about it. In my heart of hearts, I know that whatever he has to say won’t be good.

  “Hello?” I call out meekly as I walk into the house.

  No answer.

  I walk past the door to the living room and head into the kitchen, placing my keys and bag on the counter as I sling my coat over one of the stools in one slick movement. Pausing only to take a deep breath before I go in search of my fiancé.

  I don’t have to go too far to find him. Brody is sitting on the living room couch with his head in his hands so that all I can see is the top of his head and the tattoos on his arms. He’s wearing the same clothes that I last saw him in—white tee, cargo pants and work boots. The black company hoodie that he habitually wears has been dumped on the floor by his feet. A most horrendous stench is coming from his direction, so bad that I start to gag.

  “Jesus Christ! Did something die in here?” I ask him, pulling at my collar so that my sweater covers my nose, blocking out the stench. Brody says nothing. “Cat got your tongue?” I try again, still he says nothing, not even bothering to raise his head to look at me. His continued silence makes my blood boil. He does not get to do this to me. “The least you could have done after disappearing for eleven days is take a shower.” I snap as I slump in the recliner on the other side of the room. “Actually, the least you could have done is fucking call me to tell me you were safe.” My use of a swear word finally gets his attention. I let out a gasp as I get my first look at Brody in nearly two weeks. The only way I can describe the way he looks is…haunted.

  His usually clean-shaven face is hidden behind a couple weeks’ worth of growth. What skin I can see is pale, almost gray. Brody’s eyes, his beautiful gray eyes, are red-rimmed and bloodshot. He looks a lot older than his twenty-seven years, like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “So,” I start, stamping down on the pang of sympathy that wells up for the obviously broken man in front of me, “what exactly happened that was so bad you had to disappear off the face of the earth for so long?” He stares at me in silence—his eyes usually full of love are devoid of any emot
ion. “I know your cell was working, don’t try to tell me it wasn’t. You texted Cade.”

  Brody holds his hands in his lap, his knuckles white as he squeezes the blood out of them. He turns his head away from me, focusing on what I can only assume is a mysterious bit of fluff in the corner of the room that’s obviously far more interesting than talking to your fiancée, who you haven’t seen for half a month.

  “He shouldn’t have told you,” he mumbles so quietly that I almost miss it.

  “What was that? Did you say something? Because here’s me thinking that you’d forgotten how to speak, seeing as you were gone so long.” He whips his head back to face me, his expression one of fury.

  “Brooke,” he warns, but before he can say anything else I hold my hand up to stop him.

  “NO!” I yell louder than intended, and stand to start pacing the room. “There is no way you are going to get out of this, Brody McAllister. You are going to tell me what you’ve been doing for the last couple weeks and why the hell you did it.” I’m shaking with rage now. Tears of frustration flow down my cheeks as I unleash my fury. “I thought you were dead. DEAD, BRODY. I called every hospital in the area, begging them to tell me if you’d been taken there. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. And then I find out from your brother, your fucking brother, that you’d taken yourself off to the cabin to think. You”—I point at him—“didn’t even have the decency to call me to let me know that you were okay.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

  “Sorry?” I shriek. “Sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry that you were too much of a coward to tell me what’s going on in your head? Sorry that you couldn’t tell me that you were unhappy? Or sorry for all the tears that I’ve wasted on you while you were holed up in the cabin feeling sorry for yourself?”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I’ve cried more tears in the last eleven days than I did when my parents died, Brody.” I interrupt him before he can say anything else, and slump down in the recliner while rubbing my hands over my eyes in an effort to rid myself of the exhaustion that I suddenly feel. An uneasy peace descends for a moment as I struggle with what to say next. I don’t want to ask the question, but I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live with not knowing.