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Chapter 1
“Brooke, sweetie, I got a modeling job for you. Some photo shoot. It’s
on Saturday,” my agent, Leslie, said over the phone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Saturday? I can’t—I can’t leave Emily here alone, and
the babysitter can’t come on Saturdays.”
“That’s the good part—you can bring Emily. I specifically
asked them about that.”
“Thanks,” I replied gratefully.
“The shoot’s at nine-thirty. The address is 9942 Ocean View Drive,
Pivot Plaza.”
“Oh, I know where that is. Okay.”
“Bye, hun.”
I hung up the phone, and looked at the picture frame that sat on the table
next to the phone. Scott had taken the picture. We were standing on the beach
at a party. I was laughing at something he had just said, and Nick was just
smiling at me, his eyes lighting up. Neither of us knew Scott had taken the
picture, because we had been so absorbed in our own world. I sighed. I wanted
to reach out—I wanted to reach out to Nick. But if I did, I knew it
would just be empty, vast space.
On Saturday, during a break from the shoot, Emily and I were walking back
to the shoot, along a large road by the studio. She suddenly ran away, towards
a shop window, and I chased after her.
“Emily, wait for Mommy!” I called nervously.
“Mommy! I want this!” she said, pointing at a doll. It was beautiful,
made of porcelain. “Only 199.99!” the sign read.
“Not now, sweetie. It’s kind of expensive. Maybe for your
birthday,” I answered, hoping to pull her away from the display without
a scene.
“No! I want it!” Emily ran away. “I hate you!”
“Emily! Come back!” I yelled anxiously. She continued to run. I
found myself running down a busy LA street, chasing after Emily, dodging
people and their shopping bags. I spotted Emily, being held by a stranger.
Not my Emily…
As I continued to run towards Emily and the stranger, who was starting to
walk away, I was unable to stop and crashed, head-on, into the stranger.
All I could see was their backsides.
“Emily!” I started to cry. I looked up at the stranger. “What
do you—“ Oh my God. I suddenly felt faint.
“Is she—“ He looked at me with confused, sad eyes. "Brooke?”
“Nick—is that—is that you?”
“Yeah,” he said simply.
“I thought you were in Tampa…”
“Nope,” he said. And with that, he walked away. I started to cry,
grasping Emily tightly.
“Mommy? Who was that?”
In his home, Nick found himself staring at the picture next to his phone.
Him and Brooke. They hadn’t known that Scott was taking the picture.
They were standing on the beach. Brooke was laughing, lighting up, and looking
more beautiful than ever. He was smiling; basking in the glow that Brooke’s
company gave him. They were in love. The picture showed it.
He found himself dialing Scott’s familiar number.
“Scott,” Scott answered the phone, his standard greeting.
“This is Nick.”
“Sup?” Nick sighed heavily. Scott could tell something was wrong.
“I—“
“Spit it out, Carter.”
“I saw—I ran—literally—into Brooke today. She ran into
me, actually.” Nick was greeted by silence from the other end.
“And—she’s got someone else. She has a daughter.” Scott
sighed. Nick could tell instantly that Scott knew. “How come you
didn’t tell me? I can’t believe she has someone else.” Scott
sighed again.
“You’re missing something. You’re overlooking something, as
usual,” he replied, almost shouted. Nick could tell he was mad. But
why, Nick had no clue.
“What do you mean I’m missing something?” Nick snapped angrily,
not so much with anger at Scott, but anger at God, anger at the world.
“She’s met someone else. She has a daughter. Period. End of story.
She just left me. No goodbye, no ‘I’m sorry,’ nothing. She.
Left. Me. For someone else.”
“Nick—how old do you think that girl was?”
“Two? Three? What does it matter?”
“And what does she look like?”
“Blonde hair, blue—“ Nick was suddenly silent with shock.
“Nick. There wasn’t—and isn’t—anyone else.”
“You mean—she’s—. Oh my.” Nick dropped the phone,
as though it had suddenly caught fire; though his hands felt strangely cold.