If Someday Never Comes

Chapter 49

Brooks's POV

I felt like such a coward. 

I should have told Sydney about Courtney being pregnant the minute I walked through those doors but the fear felt like a vice grip on my throat and I wanted to say explain myself before I told her. I wanted to tell her how I felt about her and then find a solution together. 

I knew she felt everything I did when we were together, I knew she had been fighting it just as hard these last few months, I could tell by the way she leaned into my touch and the tears that fell down her cheeks. I hated seeing her in pain and I hate even more being the one who caused it. My gut felt like it was brimming with acid thinking about her standing in front of me unable to find the right words to make it all go away. 

I pushed her away before because I thought that was what was best for her, so she could live the life she dreamed of while I stayed here and gave up on mine but now, everything is more fucked up than ever. I realize so clearly how naive and ridiculous that idea was.

The thought of telling Courtney we are done crosses my mind, but worrying about what she might do keeps me from it. I never knew if Courtney and I would have children together but regardless we are in this situation and it's my responsibility. It's my child. 

I've been standing in my room staring at the bed that Sydney slept in the night before, my blankets still a mess and her scent in the air. I don't want to touch it, I want it to all stay the same as if I could pretend we were back here in that moment and the last eight hours hadn't happened. 

I finally found the nerve to leave the bedroom and fell onto the couch, the morning replaying in my head on a loop. Rehearing the words Sydney cried as they ping-ponged back and forth in my head. The raw and vulnerable honesty hurt but I knew I deserved it.

 It felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs when Sydney told me that she couldn't expect me to be someone I wasn't and it wasn't until that moment that I understood she wasn't just talking about now, she was talking about from the beginning. I never realized how many times I had let her go without a fight, it never hit me that I was the one who always gave up on us.

The first time I sat in my parent's kitchen and talked to her I felt it, the way we connected, and the first time I kissed her I knew I wanted her but for years I made her hide. I kept her a secret like something I was ashamed of. It made my breath catch at the thought of her so young, feeling so unwanted. I always wanted her but was afraid, I chose my pride over her feelings and I'm doing it again now. 

 Even when I thought I was doing what was best for her, I was really only doing what was best for me and the weight of that hit my chest like a freight train. I rubbed my palm across my sternum trying to ease the tension that built, the panic growing stronger by the minute. 

I laid my head back and closed my eyes, praying for a solution as I counted my breath. 

***

I woke up a few hours later. I couldn't believe I had slept. It was just after four in the afternoon and I'm sure my phone and inbox were overflowing. Needless to say, afternoon naps weren't usual for me and my phone was never too far away. 

I scrolled through the notifications, hoping to see one from Sydney, with no such luck. I had a missed call from my Mom, a few emails from Tinika, an update from Phil, and a text from Layla about the colors of my tux for the wedding. God, Layla was going to castrate me and if she didn't I knew Quinn would. I'm sure they both already know what happened and I'm surprised the text from Layla didn't end with a flip-off emoji. 

Luckily nothing was urgent that needed my immediate attention so I peeled myself off the couch and felt as though my limbs weighed a hundred pounds. I needed water.