08⎹ Long Haul

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Brooke

After a long unproductive day at Balzac's and no returned phone call from Justin, I headed home. Maybe he was busy doing a show or trying to practice for one. A part of me wondered if Justin's lack of communication was because he heard about my investment without his consideration. Maybe he was avoiding me because of it.

Once home, I grabbed a bite to eat and then headed to my room. A shower was the only form of relaxation I needed at this moment. Justin would call whenever he was ready to talk to me, so I laid in bed waiting until someone knocked on the door. It was mom. She didn't say anything for a moment. Instead she sat down on the edge of my bed until I'd given her permission to lie down. Today was just one of those days. A day where everything seemed gloomy and down. For a while I didn't know where the feeling was coming from⎯until I did.

"Brooke?" She said in more of a question. "Did you get a chance to talk to Justin yet?" I shook my head towards her and laid my head on her shoulder. She was better at reading me than I could myself. "Then why do you look like something bad just happened?"

It felt stupid to say and honestly a little embarrassing too. I missed my baby. Days like these made it hard for me to even want another one. Loving someone that you've never met before but felt move around inside you, and then losing them is a different kind of pain. It was hard talking to Justin about it. Not because I didn't think he understood the pain, but somehow he managed to handle it a hell of a lot better than I ever could. I was always the one dwelling on the loss. I didn't like to tie it to the sheer fact that he hadn't taken the loss so hard because deep down, no matter how hard I tried forgetting it, Aria wasn't Justin's baby. That alone ate me up on the inside. At one point I convinced myself that enough time had passed and these moments of unbearable pain and uncontrollable sobbing were outdated. My grieving period for someone I never even got the chance to meet was extensively obsolete. Or at least what I thought.

No matter how much time had passed by, my feelings never subsided. I hurt. I hurt all over.

"My heart feels like it's being stomped on," I cried onto her shoulder. It felt nice to be able let some of the burden I harbored for Justin and I onto her. "Whenever I think about the baby, my heart fills with so much pain and anger that I don't know how to get rid of. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I have to lose my baby?" Her arms latched tighter around my body, her hand continuing to caress my back in attempts to comfort me.

No type of pain felt as bad as this felt. Nothing could ever equate to losing a child. Not even all the shit I went through with Dylan.

"Justin and I are trying to have another baby," I sniffed, looking up at her. "And, and. I'm scared that I'll never get pregnant again or if I do, I'll lose it again. That would kill me, mom. I couldn't survive it. I can't help but get upset with Justin either because while I've been grieving the lost of the baby, he's been touring as if nothing ever happened. I lost her because of his stupid concerts. When I think about it, every fiber in my body wants to blame him."

The distaste I pictured corrupting her expression in regards to Justin and I trying for a baby never came. Her face softened instead. She looked as if she couldn't be happier to hear that I would be possibly having another baby.

"You can't let the fear of losing a baby stop you from trying for another one because what if you don't lose it? You'll have this beautiful little tiny person to spend the rest of your life loving and getting to know. Nothing can amount to that," she sighs and cuffs her hand around my cheek. Her hands were warm and soft and sent reassurance throughout my body.

A part of me ached for her. She never got the chance to love me that way. I'd already been taken away from her and dad before they could spend years getting to love me. It amazed me that even after all the years had gone by, when I came back, the love they both had for me remained.

Mom and I talked for what felt like forever but also not enough. We talked about everything under the sun and above the moon. She told me know her and dad were actually wondering when Justin and I would be ready to try. The both of them thought it would be too insensitive to ask so they always ended avoiding the question at all cost. After a little longer of talking to mom, my phone rang with a call from Justin. Mom didn't say anything but she gave me a simple nod and stood off my bed. She walked over to the door before flashing a kind smile and then shutting my room door behind her.

"Hello?" His breath was shallow. Like he had been holding it moments before calling. "Sorry for taking forever to return the call. It's been really busy around here." Something was off about him. He knew. He knew and now he was giving me the cold shoulder.

"You're fine. I've been pretty busy here too." Lie. "How's the tour going? You guys having fun and staying out of trouble?" Justin let out and exasperated sigh.

Was he really this upset at me?

"Look, Brooke. We need to talk. And this is not an easy thing for me to say so I hope you understand it from my perspective. I talked to Scooter and he told me I had to talk to you about this," he paused, sighing again.

It would be better if I owned up to it before he called me out on it. Maybe he would understand my perspective as to why I did it.

"Wait, Justin. I have something to tell you. And I really don't want you to be mad at me because I did it when I thought I had to do it. Maybe that sounds dumb," I sigh. It was hard trying to explain to someone that I was supposed to have complete trust in that I hid something from him behind his back. "I'm just going to say it. I invested forty five grand into Balzac's. I bought it. It was going out of business and maybe it was impulse, but I couldn't let a place where I spend a lot of my time at go to waste." The line was reticent. "I didn't invest money into it with our joint account either. There is an account that I've kept secret from you. It sounds bad. You don't have to tell me. At the time it seemed like the smartest thing to do. I wasn't sure if this would last and I didn't want to be humiliated if you left me and took everything because most of what we have in that account is from you. Over seventy percent is yours."

Justin's breathing was shallow. His breathing was never shallow unless he was upset or if he was sleeping. Guilt had a way of punishing me long before Justin could even think of saying something that would hurt my feeling based off the betrayal of me.

And yet, still nothing.

"Please say something? Even if it's to yell at me. Something."

"Brooke," he sighed. His voice was muffled as if he'd been covering his mouth with his hand. disappointment. "Why would you think we would end? When I vowed to you, I meant every single last word. Am I pissed about the secret account? A little. Am I hurt in the little bit of faith you had in us at the beginning? Yes. But those were the choices you and I made. As far as me taking everything if we weren't to work out, I would never do that. When you and I got married, Scooter wanted me to make you sign a prenuptial agreement. Once the lawyers explained them all to me, I considered it. It wasn't until after that I realized that me making you sign that would be a seed planted with our marriage churning for destruction. This marriage⏤you⏤you're the long haul."

His words unleashed the hitch of air I didn't know I was holding on to. If there was anything I was completely sure of, it was the fact that Justin was absolutely created with me in mind. He and I are soul mates. We would get through anything together.

Justin and I talked a while longer. I caught him up on everything regarding Jacob and the deal I made and he agreed that continuing with the renovation would be a smart thing to do. He said it had something to do with the fact that we would be on a vacation free of phones, work, and anything considered to be online socializing. The idea on its own was enough to make a smile crept.

Before we hung up, we exchanged a few more words. His breath still as shallow as when he answered the phone, yet he insisted nothing was wrong and that his lack of sleep was the reason for it. There was no reason to think otherwise. Touring was exhausting.

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