If Someday Never Comes

Chapter 38

Sydney's POV 

The Universe was playing a terrifyingly sick joke on me. 

I sat tucked back in that booth while I watched my dad and Brooks carry on for well over an hour about fishing. Who the fuck can talk about fishing for that long? My dad, that's who. I watch as Brooks politely nods along and adds bits to the conversation but I can tell he doesn't have as much to offer. I see the way he looks at my dad and the relationship he always wished he would have had with his. It makes my heart ache for him, to see his life the way that it is knowing good and well that it's the result of some unresolved debt he thinks he owes Mr. Dawson. He may think he hides it well, but I see right through it, especially now sitting here in this booth. 

I've felt something shift between us the last few weeks, the way he is always looking at me so intently as I ramble on a new idea or how patient he was as I tried to narrow down the paint. This entire project has brought something alive in me that I thought I was working on leaving in the past but it's still there thrumming underneath my skin. It's made me feel so unsettled and the whiplash of his moods is no help. One minute he's listening, kind, and laughing, then the next he's cold, stoic, and tense. It's infuriating as much as it is intriguing to uncover what makes him tick now as this new version of himself. To see what makes him feel at ease or what lights a fire under his bravado, which usually is the result of me being a smart ass but I am who I am...What can I say? 

All of these thoughts bounce through my head as I continue to refill my wine glass from the bottle I ordered, Dad looks at me with judgy eyes and Brooks are filled with amusement. 

I just smile sarcastically and resume my pour. "Please, continue with all the talk about the fish," I say snarkily as Brooks holds back another laugh. 

"Would you like to talk about the 200 boxes that we currently have sitting in our den, dining room, and kitchen instead?" Dad smiles and Brooks's eyes go wide. I clench my teeth, "No I think we've heard all you had to say about that issue as we maneuvered them around all day today." I smirk. 

"200 hundred huh?" Brooks asks and of course, Dad starts in. 

"Here we go," I mumble under my breath. 

"Can you believe," Dad says as he gestures to me, "that a person so small, has that many clothes?" 

I shoot Brooks a warning glare that says, proceed with caution and I see him bite the inside of his cheek. "Well..."Brooks looks from him to me and back again before he decides to finish, "Her body may be small but her personality is big." he smiles a big, warm, Brooks smile...that I want to smack off his face while my Dad hoots with laughter. "You're definitely not wrong about that, son." he smacks Brooks on the back while I see the reaction to that word falling off my Dad's lips all over Brooks's face, it's there for only a moment, that glow...and then once again it disappears. 

I continued to sit there across from them as Brooks's glance kept falling in my direction or his long-ass leg bumped into mine under the table. With every accidental touch or intense look, the more frazzled my nerves become. 

We finished eating nearly 20 min ago and even though there is still half of a bottle of the wine I ordered on the table I can't be this close to him anymore. I feel like I can't breathe and I'm drowning in him, the look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, the easy way he connects with my dad, the soft laughter that keeps falling from his lips, it's too much. 

"Dad, we better get back home to Mom," I say trying to sound serious about my concern but my only concern is putting distance between me and this walking case of whiplash. 

"Yeah, you're right kiddo," he looks at Brooks, "well Brooks, I can't thank you enough for all you are doing for Sydney, I truly appreciate it. It's crazy to think how far you two have come, I'm glad to see you be friends after everything that happened."