Just like that, all of the pain, all of the anger of the past five months came roaring over her fast and furious.
And after a lifetime of looking on the bright side, Brooke realized she had no idea how to deal with the darkness.
She only knew that she felt like it would break her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
WHEN CELL PHONES FIRST came on the scene decades earlier, Seth’s father had not been a fan.
Convinced that mobile devices would be the end of family life and business productivity as he knew it, Hank Tyler had tried to banish cell phones wherever he could.
At home, that had meant Seth and Maya were allowed use of their cell phones only in the after-school hours to communicate their whereabouts, and in the evening after all homework was complete. Never at the dinner table, never on family outings.
It was trickier at the office.
In the early days, there’d been a no-personal-cell-use policy. But as smartphones became more ubiquitous, Hank had realized that smartphones made his people more available—not less.
Eventually, the policy had been relaxed so that there were just no cell phones allowed in meetings, from the junior business analysts all the way up to the CEO himself. It was a policy that Seth had never minded. It focused everyone’s attention on the agenda items at hand, and with no distractions, meetings were more focused and efficient.
Case in point, Seth’s budget meeting wrapped up in record time, and with a rare few minutes to spare, he headed back toward his office with the intention of hitting up Google and researching if there was some new “it” gift for Valentine’s Day. Were flowers in? Out? Was chocolate too cliché?
Then again, even if chocolate was cliché, he didn’t think Brooke would say no. He was rapidly learning the woman had a serious weakness for the stuff. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, even white chocolate—all were fair game.
In the elevator, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to make a note to ask Maya for a list of the best chocolate stores in the city—his sister shared Brooke’s sweet tooth, although she was an equal opportunity sugar eater and knew her way around every overpriced macaroon, truffle, and cupcake in Manhattan.
Six missed calls. Seth frowned, since few people had his personal cell phone number, and those who did were more inclined to text than call.
His stomach dropped when he saw that four of the calls had come from Brooke.
The other two were from Etta. Etta, who of all people knew that he wouldn’t have his cell on in the meeting. Then again, Etta also would have known how to reach him if it were a true emergency, so he relaxed. Slightly.
But Brooke didn’t seem the type of woman to call him multiple times in an hour unless it was urgent. The second he stepped off the elevator, he dialed her back, cursing under his breath when it went straight to voice mail. He chose not to leave a message and clicked off the call, striding toward his office.
“Where’s Etta?” he barked at Jared, noting that his assistant was nowhere to be seen.
Jared spun around in his chair, and Seth saw that the man had a phone affixed to his ear. The younger man’s eyes went wide with panic, and Seth could practically hear him thinking about how to listen to whomever was on the other end and answer Seth’s question.
“Never mind,” Seth muttered, heading into his office even as he started to text Brooke.
Hey, everything okay?
He skidded to a halt when he realized his office was not empty.
There was Etta sitting on his couch.
With Brooke.
Who was crying on his assistant’s shoulder.
If Seth’s gut had tightened earlier when he’d seen the missed calls, it twisted into a full-on knot now at the sight of tears running down her face.
Seth went to Brooke immediately, dropping his iPhone to the coffee table with a careless clatter as he went to his knees in front of her. “Sweetheart.”
She gave him a watery smile and ran the back of her hand against her runny nose in a childlike gesture as she sniffled. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. It was just, you didn’t answer, and I thought I could just wait, and then—I just—I—”
Brooke started crying all over again, and Etta wrapped her arms more firmly around the younger woman, rubbing her back in small circles.
Seth was torn between being grateful for Etta’s maternal instincts and barking at his assistant to back off so that he could be the one holding her.
Etta met his eyes and shook her head slightly, giving the barest of shrugs.
Whatever Brooke was crying about, she hadn’t told Etta.
“Poor thing’s been sobbing too hard to get many words out,” she said quietly to Seth as though Brooke weren’t there. And she might not be wrong. Brooke was shaking, her sobs nearly drowning out his and Etta’s side conversation.
“Brooke,” Seth said, taking her hands in his. “What’s wrong?”