Chương 5
Brooke looked toward the ballroom.
“I thought people would ask questions.”
“What questions?”
“About Ava’s father.”
Michael frowned.
“Why?”
“Because everyone knows he isn’t around.”
“So?”
“So people talk.”
“That’s your reason?”
“No.”
She stopped.
Then corrected herself.
“That was part of it.”
Michael waited.
She looked at the ground.
“There were things I didn’t want people bringing up today.”
“What things?”
Her silence stretched.
And for the first time all night, Brooke looked afraid.
Not of being caught.
Of being seen.
“There’s something you don’t know.”
Michael’s face changed.
“What?”
Brooke looked at him.
“I should have told you before we got married.”
The music inside continued.
Guests danced.
Someone laughed near the entrance.
And outside, my brother stood in his wedding clothes listening to his wife tell him there was something she had hidden.
“Tell me now,” he said.
Brooke opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
“I can’t do this here.”
Michael’s eyes hardened.
“Tonight is exactly where you should do it.”
She looked toward the room.
Toward the people celebrating.
Toward the life she had just entered.
Then she whispered something I could barely hear.
“It’s about Ava’s father.”
Michael went completely still.
And I knew before he turned around that whatever came next was going to change more than one family relationship.
Michael turned toward me.
I could see the question in his face before he spoke.
“What did she mean?”
I did not answer.
Not because I knew.
Because I had the same question.
Brooke looked between us, and for a moment the confidence she had carried all day disappeared completely.
“I didn’t want to talk about this at the wedding.”
Michael gave a short, humorless laugh.
“I noticed.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No?”
His voice remained controlled, which somehow made it more serious.
“You made a decision about my niece, hid it from me, and now you’re telling me there’s something about her father that I don’t know.”
Brooke looked down.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
She did not respond.
That was the answer.
Michael stepped away from the railing.
“Brooke.”
She looked up.
“When were you going to tell me?”
Her eyes moved toward the ballroom.
“I don’t know.”
The honesty of that answer seemed to hurt him more than an excuse would have.
I watched my brother take a slow breath.
He had spent his entire life trying to avoid being the person who made things worse.
Now he was standing in the middle of the worst thing and realizing silence had already made it worse.
“What does Ava’s father have to do with this?” he asked.
Brooke pressed her lips together.
“He contacted me.”
The night seemed to become quieter.
Even though the reception continued behind us, even though music played and people laughed, that sentence changed the space we were standing in.
“When?” Michael asked.
“About two months ago.”
My heart started beating faster.
“Why would he contact you?” I asked.
Brooke looked at me.
There was fear in her expression now.
Not guilt.
Not exactly.
Fear.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
She looked at Michael.
“That I knew him before.”
Michael stared at her.
“What?”
“I knew Ava’s father before you and I met.”
I felt my hands go cold.
Michael looked completely lost.
“Where?”
“At work.”
“What work?”
“Before I moved here.”
The pieces were not fitting together.
Not yet.
They were just scattered across the floor.
“How well did you know him?” Michael asked.
Brooke looked away.
“Better than I should have.”
Nobody spoke.
The phrase hung there.
Michael’s face changed.
Not into anger.
Into something closer to betrayal.
“How much better?”
Brooke shook her head.
“I never had a relationship with him.”
“I didn’t ask that.”
“I know.”
“Then answer me.”
She swallowed.
“We were friends.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was the kind of small word people used when the truth was too uncomfortable.
“Friends don’t usually hide each other for years,” I said.
Brooke looked at me.
“I wasn’t hiding him.”
“You didn’t tell us.”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
Michael looked at her.
“Why would he contact you?”
She hesitated.
“He wanted information.”
“About what?”
Brooke did not answer.
Michael’s voice sharpened.
“About what?”
She looked toward the door.
“About Ava.”
The air left my chest.
“What kind of information?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not true.”
Brooke rubbed her arms.
“He asked if she was doing okay.”
“Why?”
“I told him I didn’t know.”
“You talked to him about my daughter?”
“I was trying to understand why he reached out.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Michael shook his head.
“You keep saying that after the fact.”
Brooke looked hurt.
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
She looked at him.
“Of you seeing me differently.”
That answer would have meant something on another night.
Maybe another situation.
But not after Ava sat at a table with crackers because an adult had decided she was inconvenient.
“You should have been scared of what Ava felt,” I said.
Brooke looked down.
For once, she did not argue.
Michael stepped back.
“I need the full story.”
“I don’t want to do this here.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because this is our wedding.”
Michael looked through the glass doors at the reception.
“Our wedding already changed.”
Nobody spoke.
The sentence was simple.
But it was true.
A wedding was not just a party.
It was a promise people made in front of everyone they loved.
And now my brother was standing there wondering what parts of his promise had been built on missing information.
Brooke wiped at the corner of her eye.
“I was going to tell you after tonight.”
“Why after?”
“Because I wanted one day where nothing was wrong.”
Michael stared at her.
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“You keep trying to protect moments instead of people.”
She looked like she wanted to respond.
She did not.
May you like
Ava came outside then.
Not because she understood what was happening.
