My heart hammers in my chest as I hang on Luka’s every word, knowing that what he says next could make or break our entire marriage.
“Well…” Luka starts, his gaze searching as he looks off into the distance for a moment, “I have to say, I knew almost immediately that I was going to lose my heart to my wife. I fought it, naturally. Especially given the circumstances under which we got together. But it didn’t take long before I gave up trying to hide my feelings, and it was obvious that she was feeling it, too.”
Tears are rolling down my face, and Mateo takes my half-empty glass and hands me a wad of tissues as Luka goes on.
“When I said ‘I do,’ I meant it—and I’m still fully committed to our relationship, regardless of what the media thinks. I love Brooklyn more than anything. More than the agency, more than my image, more than any pressure the world might try to put on us.” He looks at the camera again as if he’s searching for me.“It’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
Brooklyn
Chapter 27
The interview is over. The show has moved on to the next segment, yet I can’t turn away from the screen. My mind is blown. Did I really just hear what I think I did?
Mateo touches my arm and I look over, still in shock.
“Are you okay, Brookie?”
It hits me then. Why he was so insistent about controlling the remote and why he chose the gossip channel to begin with. “You knew about this all along. Didn’t you.”
He grimaces. “Don’t be pissed at me. I had a few little chats with Luka and he strongly encouraged me to make sure you watched the show, but I didn’t know exactly what he was going to say. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but honestly. Would you have cooperated if I had?”
“I don’t know.”
Luka loves me. He said it on national television. He still wants to be with me. He said I’m more important than his image, his work, other modeling contracts. I can hardly believe it.
“What do I do now?” I ask. I’m too overwhelmed to think straight.
Mateo turns my face toward him, and his eyes are kind. “Go to him, of course.”
Rationally, I know this is the answer. But I’ve made such a mess of things. I ran away and hid like a coward, ignored his calls, and didn’t tell him where I was. I basically forced him to go on TV to plead his case. I can’t even imagine what his family thinks of all of this.
I think about all the voicemails he left. All the texts he sent. I should have at least replied to one, just to let him know that I was okay, but I left him hanging. I wouldn’t blame him for being angry with me. Not one bit. He was frantic, and I’m sure Tori and Emzee were, too.
“God, Mat. I have so much apologizing to do,” I moan.
My best friend laughs softly. “Yeah, you do. But first, let’s do something about…all of this.” He gestures at my yoga pants, my oversized sleep shirt, the messy bun on top of my head.
I hurry to the bathroom and jump in for a quick shower, and afterward Mateo wastes no time whipping out his makeup kit and working some subtle magic on my face with the neutral palette. I slip into jeans and a white tee and towel dry my hair so it’ll fall in loose waves. It’s a simple look, but it’s the best I can manage—and it’s the first time in days that I don’t look like death warmed over. It has to be good enough.
“He’s going to think you’re beautiful no matter what you look like,” Mateo says, trying to calm my nerves. “Besides, you won’t be wearing this for long anyway.”
I can’t help laughing at the insinuation, and hoping it’s true. I can barely recall my husband’s touch thanks to all the stress lately, and I’m more than eager for a refresher. Once Mateo declares that I look perfect, he ushers me to his car and drives me home.Home.The place I’ve longed to be for the past week. As we pull up to the building, my heart feels like it’s going to explode.
“Oh my God, what if I can’t do this?” I fret.
“Brooklyn, you’ve got this,” Mateo insists. “He loves you. You love him. It really is that simple. As for the details, you two will figure it out. Have faith.”
He pulls into the parking garage and hustles me out of the car, then walks me over to the private elevator and gives me a big squeeze.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I feel like you’re my fairy godmother.”
“Oh, I definitely am. I’m always here for you, darling. And you know what? So is Luka. You’re so lucky to have a man who loves you the way you deserve. Enjoy it, Brooklyn.”
He punches the elevator button and the doors ding open immediately, kicking my adrenaline into high gear. I take a deep breath, step inside, and flash Mat a little wave goodbye.
As I ride up to the penthouse, every possible scenario that could go horribly wrong plays through my mind. My worst fear? That Luka will simply slam the door in my face.Then again, I suppose it’s possible the crew fromCelebrity Chatis still inside, breaking down their gear and wrapping things up after Luka’s interview. Shit. I hadn’t even thought of that.
But when I cautiously push the door open, I’m met with silence—and Mr. Kibbles waiting for me, as if he somehow knew I was heading up. He sits like a good boy, wagging his tail so hard that it thumps against the floor. I drop to one knee and give him a good scratch.