Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,466

be a genius to see my feelings for Wes aren’t as strong as they should be. But I appreciate him. I respect him. I admire him. Can’t that be enough for us? Can’t I learn to love him?

“Why?” she presses when I remain silent. “Why would you give up on the one thing you’ve always dreamed of?” Molly’s voice grows louder with each word she speaks, leaning into me.

It doesn’t matter that I’m outside in the open air, acres upon acres of trees and space surrounding me. I feel trapped, the world closing in, suffocating me. We’re alone, but I feel the burn of a thousand eyes, threatening to expose the secret I’ve kept from everyone for years. There have been so many times I’ve almost told Molly everything, stopping at the last second. The pain of all those chances I gave him. The repeated rejections. The heart-shattering truth it’s taken me years to learn. I’ve kept it buried. I need it to stay buried, not resurrect it for all to see. Everyone has a chapter they don’t want to read out loud. Drew is mine.

“Why would you settle for anything less than what you deserve?” she continues. “What reason could you have for marrying someone who doesn’t make your heart do somersaults whenever you see him? Why, Brooklyn? Please, tell me why so I can understand what’s going on with you!”

Still vehemently shaking my head, I attempt to sidestep around her. “You’d never understand, Molly. You—”

“Just tell me!” she shrieks, gripping my biceps with a force I’m not expecting.

My face flames, all the stress, confusion, and despair that’s been building since I agreed to marry Wes reaching a boiling point. My muscles tense, my nostrils flare as the words slip out far too easily.

“Because I’m in love with Drew!” I shout, then gasp, covering my mouth, just as surprised by my revelation as Molly.

She stares at me with wide eyes, her jaw dropping as my words ring in the air. I’ve kept it in so long, refused to admit it, even with all her teasing and prodding over the years. I’ve always been able to remain firm, claim I value my friendship with her above everything. But that’s not the entire story. No one knows the entire story…even Drew.

“You mean you love him as friends, right? Like you’ve always said?”

I shake my head, collapsing onto one of the cement benches. “No, Molly. Not as a friend. I can’t remember a time when I haven’t been in love with him.”

She sits beside me, bringing her hand to my arm. I peer into her questioning eyes.

“But Drew doesn’t love me.” My voice shakes as I struggle to speak through the lump in my throat. It’s one thing to think those words. To say them out loud gives them meaning, a truth it’s time I learn to accept.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. He’s made that abundantly clear.”

“When? Did something happen at the museum?” she asks, then lowers her voice. “Was it because of Carla? Drew said you ran into her.”

I laugh sarcastically at the irony of her question, raising myself back to my feet. “It’s always been because of Carla.” I fight to stop my chin from quivering, the memories leaving me raw and gutted. “Or whatever other woman had his attention at the time. I just…” I inhale deeply, collecting my thoughts. “He never saw me, and it’s taken me years to finally wake up and realize it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to.” I start back toward the house, wanting to get out of this place and turn back the clock to my younger days. There are so many things I’d do differently. I never would have given Drew my first kiss. I never would have allowed him to flirt with me over the years, to get my hopes up, only to have him forget about me the next day. And I never would have allowed a very drunk version of him into my bedroom seven years ago.

Molly grips my arm, preventing me from walking away. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Then what did Drew say to you?”

I snort a laugh. “It’s what he didn’t say, Molly. It’s what he never says.”

“Please, Brooklyn. I’m sick of all this talking in code bullshit. Just fucking tell me what happened, what Carla or Drew did to turn you into this.” She gestures at me, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“This?”

“Yes.” She straightens her spine. “This. This woman who, over the past few years,