The Redemption Duet by T.K. Leigh

Author:T.K. Leigh [Leigh, T.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carpe Per Diem, Inc.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brooklyn

The most dangerous lies are the ones you tell yourself. They fester and churn, burning like acid, painful and biting until the lie becomes who you are, becomes the only identity you know.

For the past seventeen years, I’ve been lying to myself, doing everything to convince myself I can move past everything I’ve endured. After all, Drew’s just a friend. The problem is that’s not true.

Drew and I have a history, one I once cherished and held dear, but now only want to forget. And it’s this history and connection that’s turned our friendship into something more. It gave me hope, gave me faith, gave me promise. Each smile, each hug, each wink misled me to have even more hope, more faith, more promise. I can’t do this to myself anymore.

I won’t do this to myself anymore.

My hands shake as I bring my keyring up to the lock on my front door, relentless tears still flowing down my cheeks as his words replay in my mind.

“Please, Brooklyn. Let me be your last.”

It took every ounce of resolve not to fling myself into his arms at his heartfelt plea. But staying away is the only way I’ll ever have a chance at repairing my damaged heart.

I disappear into my townhouse, blowing out a relieved breath once I’m secure in my own private sanctuary. I collapse onto the couch, only to come face-to-face with a framed photo of Drew, Molly, and me from our childhood. Drew’s in his hockey gear, Molly and me on either side of him, his arms pulling both of us close. I’ve always loved this photo, but now it makes the tears fall even harder, my entire body trembling.

I thought I could escape him here, but I can’t. He’s everywhere. In the air. On the walls. In the foundation. This is the reason I need to marry Wes. Drew may not see it. Hell, even Molly may not see it. But it needs to happen. I need to move on, to forget the past and the unrequited love I’ve held onto for too long now.

As I lay there, struggling to pull myself together, a car door slams, jolting me. It could be one of my neighbors, but I recognize that particular car door…as ridiculous as that sounds. It’s known and familiar, like the rhythm of a loved one’s breathing. I shoot up, staring out the window behind the couch to see Drew walking toward the door. I scurry from the couch, unsure where to go, scanning the small living space for an escape plan.

His footsteps up the stairs and onto the porch echo, my breathing increasing with each one. I duck, hiding beneath the window of the front door. His fist pounds on the wood, making me jump.

“Brooklyn! Open up! I need to talk to you.”

I hold my breath, praying he’s unable to sense me sitting just on the other side of the door.

“I know you’re in there. Your car’s in the driveway.”

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Please,” he begs, his voice growing soft.

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