Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“Don’t do that again,” she snapped, turning to the door. “Just leave me alone, Aiden.”
The sadness in her voice hit him like a punch to the gut. No matter how much he wanted to call her back, he respected her need to walk away.
She unlocked her door and stepped inside, her eyes locking with his briefly before she slammed the door. The sound of the deadbolt drove her point home. He wasn’t welcome.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned away and walked back to the main house. He took comfort in the not-so-small fact that despite her hurt, she still seemed to want him, giving him something to work with. He’d given up on the idea of being with her once, and it had been the biggest mistake of his life.
No matter what she believed, Brooke Snyder was meant to be his. He’d been kidding himself to think otherwise.
Chapter Six
Brooke slammed the door on Aiden and what had to be his lies. How could he claim to remember every moment of their time together when he’d dumped her so easily the next day? And how could she physically respond so quickly to him after all the years of pain he’d caused her?
Grrr.
Brooke stalked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of much-needed wine. Leaning against the counter, she took a long sip and did her best to calm down. Once she felt better, she headed for her bedroom and placed the glass on the nightstand.
Then, despite her common sense, she opened the closet, lifted on her tiptoes, and grabbed a box from the high shelf. Taking the treasured item to the bed, she opened the top and lifted out the first scrapbook she’d ever made.
She’d been twenty years old, having a blast in college, and wanted to document every experience she had. Since then, she’d created multiple volumes, and she loved looking through them to revisit her favorite memories. To this day, the books were lined up on a shelf in her room. This first one was the only album she kept tucked away because the memories inside hurt so badly.
Flipping it open, she stared at a picture of herself, Fallon and Aiden sitting on a bench she remembered being in a park near their home. The siblings smiled broadly with their heads leaned in toward Brooke in the middle. They’d been so happy, and Brooke’s chest felt tight as she looked at the photo, remembering that day.
There had been a concert in the park and Aiden had been protective of both her and Fallon, keeping a close eye on them as they danced to the music. She smiled as she recalled him forcing them to drink water often and glaring at any man that approached. At the time, he’d probably considered her to be like a sister, no different than Fallon.
But Brooke had allowed herself to pretend there’d been more, that he’d felt protective and possessive because he shared her feelings. She’d been falling in love with him even then.
Maybe she’d always loved him.
She continued to flip through the pages. Aiden was featured on so many. Sometimes the two of them were with Fallon, or other friends at parties or dinners. Other times they were hanging around campus. On occasion, it had been just the two of them.
They’d both studied business, so they often crammed for tests together or he’d guide her when she wrote her papers. Aiden was older, further along in his studies, and she’d been grateful for his help. Things between them changed that year. They’d grown closer and she could see the progression of them as she neared the end of the scrapbook.
The last picture in the book showed the two of them at his college graduation. She’d been so proud, and she could see the joy in her face. Aiden stood, handsome in his cap and gown, with his entire future ahead of him.
He’d slung his arm around her shoulders and hope flared to life when he pulled her to him. Though they were just posing for a photo, the moment felt intimate. Afterward, he didn’t move away. Despite being surrounded by his family, he’d kept her tucked into his side longer than necessary.
She’d looked at him then, their faces so close, and there’d been a spark in his eyes, a warmth that made her believe he finally saw her as more than a friend, or an unofficial family member. She had no idea he’d already made up his mind. He was in the process of making moves to become a traveling journalist and leave New York. A few short weeks later, he’d destroyed her hope for their future.
Slamming the scrapbook closed, Brooke gulped down the last swallow of her red wine and put the book away. There was no use living in the past.