Brenda floats through the crowd, her eyes scanning for me.
And this is when my fight or flight instincts choose to kick in.
Talk about timing.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m racing toward the exit, everything around me a blurred whir of people and drinks and sounds and lights against darkness.
“Whoa, whoa. Demi, where are you going?” Delilah snags my arm when I’m a good fifteen feet from freedom.
“Brenda wants me to give a speech.” I’m breathless. I don’t know if it’s the anxiety or the near sprint I just did in heels.
Delilah sticks her tongue from the corner of her mouth and wrinkles her face. “Ew.”
“I can’t stand up there, in front of all these people, and tell them how much I love Brooks.”
Delilah’s lips twist and scrunch at the corner. “All right. Go. I’ll cover for you. I’ll tell her you got sick.”
Throwing my arms around my little sister, I whisper, “Thank you” into her ear and bolt out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Demi
Brooks stares at the mounted TV in the corner of his hospital room. My heels click against the soft tile, and his head slowly careens in my direction. His face lights when he sees me, and his arms reach for me.
I place a palm up, and stop several paces away from him.
“Demi,” he says. “Aren’t you supposed to be downtown?”
His speech is better now. A bit slow and slurred, but it’s all there, becoming clearer with each passing day.
“You look pretty.” His gaze drinks me from head to toe and he smiles. “If only I wasn’t nursing a broken pelvis.”
I ignore his comment and take the seat by his bed.
“I wanted to ask you something,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“What do you remember about the week of the accident?”
I watch his face twist, like he’s trying to concentrate really hard, and he stares into his lap at curled fingers.
“Not a lot, Demi. I’m sorry,” he says, taking his time.
I place my head in my hand, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair. Crossing my legs toward him, I scoot closer.
“Really try to remember, Brooks. I know it’s hard. But I need you to try. If there’s anything . . .”
He shakes his head, licking dry lips. “I can’t, Demi. I’ve tried.”
“Our engagement is over. You ended it, and I really need you to remember so you can tell your Mom.”
Brooks’s crestfallen expression would break my heart in two if it wasn’t so focused on all the reasons I needed him to corroborate this.
“I remember us fighting a lot. About the wedding.” His forehead wrinkles. “I remember having doubts. But I don’t remember calling it off.”
“Doubts,” I say. “What kind of doubts?”
I’m hoping this will be some kind of portal or wormhole, something to lead us in the right direction.
Brooks shakes his head slowly, dragging in a long, slow breath.
“Normal doubts?” he says. “Cold feet? Nothing unusual.”
Defeated, I massage my temple and try again. “There had to have been a reason, Brooks, that you left me that night. Where were you going? Were you going to see somebody? You were just outside Glidden. What’s in Glidden?”
I study his eyes, hoping I can see some hint of something clicking. Wheels turning. Anything.
“Demi, my head is pounding, and I’m hurting, and I don’t have the energy,” he says. “I don’t care what happened a week ago. All I know is I want to marry you.”
This isn’t going to work.
No one’s going to believe me if the man who called off the wedding doesn’t remember doing it.
“Mom told me you never left my side,” he says, exhaling and trying to readjust himself. His face winces, and he blows a hard breath. “If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.”
Your Mom is lying to you.
“I’m going to marry you, Demi.” He reaches for me, the veins in his Ivy League rower’s arms bulging as he attempts to flex his tight hand.
“Brooks.” I clear my throat and close my eyes. I didn’t want to do this while he was still in the hospital, but I’m not sure I have a choice. “You cheated on me. The night you left, you were going to see her. In Glidden.”
His swollen face tightens for a moment, his upper lip becoming stiff. For a split second, I’m sure he’s about to come clean.
My palms sweat, and I wait, watching him breathe in and out and focus on the white flannel blanket covering his feet.
“I would never.” His eyes narrow. “I mean, I know I’m not perfect, and I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, but we can fix that. Life’s too short to focus on the past, Demi.”