The Men Next Door

Ch 23 - Campbell

I had fun watching Brooks and Brenna interact throughout the weekend. Their dynamic was interesting — at times she came across more like a mom than a sister — and I wondered if that was just due to their age difference or if there was something deeper at play.

Brooks had told me very little about his family, apart from the fact that he and Brenna were much closer to each other than they were to their parents. When I asked why that was, he gave me a cryptic answer about not wanting to mar my perception of his parents before I ever had a chance to meet them. Something about how they were different people from the ones he knew as a kid, and Elijah couldn't separate the version in his head from the version that existed now, and he didn't want to create that same dichotomy for me if he could help it.

Dichotomy. Really, he said that. It was such a Brooks word.

I wanted to pry every last secret out of him, but I certainly wasn't in any place to be making demands about vulnerability. And Brooks was vulnerable, when it came to me. When it came to us. He talked freely about how he was feeling in the moment, what he wanted in our future, and what he was willing to compromise on as we moved forward.

If I wanted to know what was going on in all the other parts of his head — the ones he'd carefully hidden away because he wasn't sure I was there to stay — then I had to do something to give him that confidence. I knew it, he knew it — hell, even the bird who tweeted obnoxiously on my balcony railing every morning knew it. I'd talked myself in so many circles that I started telling the little creature my woes while I drank my coffee, hoping it would fly off and land on whichever man's balcony I was supposed to choose.

It always flew straight out into the city.

By the third time that happened, I started to see the symbolism in it. I wasn't choosing a man, I was choosing a path toward my future. A flight out into the great unknown. And sure, I needed a partner who would stick with me when life felt beautiful and limitless and eye-opening, just like a bird's-eye view of the sky — but I also needed someone who would keep me grounded when the storm clouds came rolling in.

Because life sure as hell isn't always sunny.

~~~

On Friday evening, I picked up my phone, then sat it back down like it had burned me before I could even unlock it.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

But my shaky voice would definitely give me away if I called and asked him to come over.

What if he tried to put off the inevitable?

Would I stop him?

I should just go knock on his door.

I headed to my neighbor's apartment and took a deep breath to steady myself. My hand hovered in front of the door like it was fighting against the end of a polarized magnet, and before my skin ever made contact with the wood, my phone started buzzing in my pocket.

I dug it out of the fabric of my jeans — which were feeling less and less like clothing and more and more like a boa constrictor wrapping around my legs — and nervously chewed on my lip when I saw Luca's name on the screen.

The whole thing was giving me flashbacks to the day he called and asked me on that jet skiing date. Back then, I took it as a sign to not give up on our relationship, but what kind of sign was it supposed to be now?

I thought me and tweety bird had it all figured out after our most recent balcony venting session. There weren't supposed to be any more symbolic moments to throw me for a loop. But maybe there were never any signs at all — maybe I just wanted someone else to place the blame on when things went wrong.