Brooke and Taylor - The Wedding (1) (Patreon)

Aaand here we go!

Kind of.

The reality was, this was destined to be a longer story if I wanted to do it justice, so there is going to be a part 2 in which we actually get into all of the details coming in the next month or two!

This part is a little emotional, and works in conjunction with what my idea had been for Taylor in the mother's day poll, months ago.

So, in part 2, we will get into some spice as well (what a close poll this month was!)

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Part 1

There was something Brooke really, deeply loved about picking Taylor up at the airport after one of her trips.

She figured it had to do with several variables. She loved seeing Taylor come gliding out through customs like she owned the very airport. She’d never seen anyone who looked so at-home in a fucking airport before.

But there was this thing about Taylor Vandenberg, this quality about her. One that made Brooke stand at attention and stare. To take notice. Always.

And now, at this point in her life –

Taylor’s eyes landed on her, easily managing to cut through everyone else in the crowd and find her, and that gorgeous smile lit up her face.

Taylor walked over to her, wrapping Brooke up into her arms.

Never one for public affection before Taylor, Brooke now let herself melt into the embrace. Sure, it had taken a little while for them to get to this point, but while she could be stubborn, she wasn’t against personal growth.

And if personal growth meant having this life with Taylor, Brooke was very much in favor of it.

Taylor wasn’t necessarily “into” public displays of affection, but she certainly didn’t shy away from them, either. For most of Brooke’s life, she had. Vehemently.

Why would she want everyone’s eyes on her?

She loved her role, behind the scenes. She wanted to make big decisions, she wanted to make an impact, she wanted to do something that mattered. But she didn’t want everyone staring at her while she did it.

This kind of hug, though, the one Taylor was so fond of at the airport, was exactly the kind of thing people glanced at.

Because Taylor just gave herself into it. Brooke could feel it; Taylor’s intensity, her affection, her emotion.

And Brooke… gave herself over to it.

Because to be loved like this by not only another person, but by Taylor was – it was the dream. It was her dream, even when she’d refused to allow herself to have it.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to come to the airport to pick me up?” Taylor asked into her ear, her voice that deliciously perfect hushed, rasping cadence.

Brooke shivered from it. “Well, until you tell me that you don’t want me to pick you up, I’m going to do it.”

“Hmm,” Taylor breathed out, turning her head just enough to drop a kiss next to her ear.

She shivered again.

“I’m not going to ever say that. I love seeing you when I get off the plane. I’m just saying I’ve gotten myself to and from airports about a million times, and it feels like a waste of your time to drive all the way here for something I can do, myself. And I know how you love efficiency.”

There was the slightest teasing tone in her voice.

One that had Brooke shaking her head as she pulled back from their embrace. “Well, I love you more.”

Again, a few years ago, it would have made her feel so – uncomfortable. Just saying that, aloud, so freely and openly.

But now, she got to see the way it made Taylor’s eyes light up and her already-wide smile grow even bigger, even as it softened.

“I love you more, too.”

“More than…?” She trailed off, arching her a dubious look. “Efficiency?” Because they both knew Taylor wasn’t about the most efficient way to do something. She loved to take her time and do things the “enjoyable” way, even if it was far less efficient.

“Just, more,” Taylor stated with a shrug, sliding her hands down, so she could link her hands together at the small of Brooke’s back.

She rolled her eyes again, even as she felt herself smiling. “Ah, yes. The classic Taylor comparative adjective without anything to be compared to.”

Taylor didn’t say anything back. She simply smiled at her. And even though they were in the airport, surrounded by hundreds of other people, Brooke felt like the moment was just for them.

“I missed you,” the words escaped her, unthinkingly, on a whisper. Not that she cared – she was long past overthinking any of her comments or declarations to Taylor – it was just… that happened, now.

She’d never experienced something like this the way she did with Taylor. Where she felt emotional and completely at-ease with vocalizing it, to the point there it happened without any thought.

“I missed you… more,” Taylor tacked on at the end with a wink.

***

It was only when they were in the car that she realized something seemed… off.

It was subtle.

But it was in the way Taylor didn’t go into that captivating storytelling mode she had, where she would thread a needle through her trip so succinctly, Brooke could only be captivated. It was like the first glimpse, unedited edition of her article before she posted it.

Usually, Taylor could spend the entire drive home filling the silence. And Brooke, as someone who historically didn’t mind silence, lived for it. Craved it.

Brooke really enjoyed the rhythm she and Taylor had settled into. She loved her life more than she’d ever imagined she’d be able to.

She loved travelling in a way she’d never fathomed. She loved that Taylor opened her eyes to the world.

And she loved that Taylor had found a balance she loved. Still travelling, still going where she felt called to go, but also always coming home to her, building a true life at home.

So this quiet in the car was a little unsettling, to say the least.

Brooke looked at Taylor out of her peripheral vision as she drove down the highway, and she looked so… contemplative. Which wasn’t totally abnormal for Taylor, but typically when she was quiet and thoughtful, she was peaceful.

Whatever was going on in her mind right now was not peaceful.

Maybe if she didn’t know Taylor as well as she did, she wouldn’t know that. But she did know it.

And it made Brooke feel concerned in a way she so rarely ever felt. Taylor could always handle herself – physically and emotionally – so this was alarming.

She waited until halfway into their drive back home to see if Taylor would vocalize whatever was on her mind.

When she didn’t, she cleared her throat, getting Taylor’s attention. “Is everything… all right?”

Taylor took a deep breath and held it, before she released it with a quiet but affirmative hum.

Which only made Brooke even more concerned, the sharp bite of anxiety threading through her. Her serious, no-nonsense voice, the one now typically reserved for work, slipped out, “Let me re-phrase that – what is wrong?”

Taylor took in another deep breath, but answered, “I just… have some things on my mind. I’ll tell you more when we get settled in at home.”

Though she didn’t necessarily feel reassured by that, she accepted it.

By the time they got home, she was uncharacteristically antsy with the need to know.

She brought in Taylor’s luggage, situating it next to the front door in the spot she’d made specifically for the night before and return day of travel days. It was a storage spot that was easily accessible, perfectly fitting Taylor’s suitcase, with a shelf she’d built in above it that fit Taylor’s favorite duffel bag.

As she did, the cats – all three of them, because Gremlin never missed the chance to get some loving from Taylor – came over to greet them.

Taylor dropped down low, talking in quiet, sweet tones as she took turns giving them all some love. “And were you good for your mom? Gremlin, I heard that you climbed up the draped in the living room the other day. That wasn’t great, but I do appreciate your aptitude for acrobatics.”

Brooke rolled her eyes at the memory of finding Gremlin’s latest antics when she’d come home from work, but couldn’t help the smile at Taylor’s gentle chastising-and-praising.

Especially because it was somewhat similar to how Brooke had responded, though she didn’t use the cutesy voice Taylor did.

After another few seconds of greeting the cats, Taylor stood up and reached for Brooke’s hand, leading her into the den. Though a million thoughts were swirling through her mind, though, she couldn’t actually settle on one, because she genuinely had no idea what was going on in Taylor’s mind.

“When are we going to start actually planning our wedding?” Taylor asked, as she settled onto the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her.

Surprise slammed through Brooke as she dropped down onto the couch next to Taylor. “… What?”

Taylor lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers, drawing attention to her engagement ring. “We got engaged over two years ago.”

Brooke glanced down at her own ring, a familiar and welcome rush of warmth accompanying it. Still, she wasn’t connecting the dots, and she turned back to Taylor. “I know this.”

Obviously.

“And usually people start to plan for the wedding aspect of that, after the engagement. Or at least talk about it.” Taylor was using that teasing tone, but the very specific one. Like, yes, she was teasing but no, she also was serious.

“I know this as well…” Brooke trailed off, arching her a look, still unable to connect the dots.

“Brooke,” Taylor’s laughing exasperation was clear.

Brooke felt the same exasperation, turning to face Taylor more fully, even as they were pressed close together on the couch. “Taylor.”

“Do you want to marry me?” Taylor asked, and there was a shocking… vulnerability? In her voice.

“Sure,” Brooke affirmed, easily and immediately.

Taylor’s mouth dropped open, an incredulous laugh falling from her lips. “Oh my god.”

Groaning, Brooke scrubbed her hands over her face. “Taylor, come on. You know me. And you know that didn’t mean – in any way – some sort of reluctance about marrying you.”

Taylor deliberately knocked their knees together. “Still. I was just thinking about it, and… I mean, when we got engaged, I had to nudge you into it–”

Sitting up at attention as she realized that this was genuinely serious, she held up her hand and cut in, “Because you have never expressed a desire about getting married,” she defended, before arching her a look, “And, you know, you could have always proposed to me. Or brought up wanting to plan a wedding?”

Very gently, she nudged Taylor’s knee with her own right back, feeling deeply uncertain about what waters they were in and why. Which was so fucking weird because she never felt that way with Taylor, not in literal years.

Through so much of her life, feeling this uncertainty would make her feel defensive and, as a reaction, short. But she – they – had come so far, grown so much even in the last few years together, that she didn’t feel the slightest inkling to put her walls up.

She just… wanted to understand what in the hell was going on.

So, she opened up first. As Taylor had been the one to show her, sometimes to get a little, you had to give a little. And she had no problem giving to Taylor.

“I don’t – I just mean… sure, I want to marry you. I understand it might have sounded callous, but I don’t mean it in that way. In fact, I think I meant it in the opposite kind of way?”

Rolling her lips in thought, she took a moment to figure out how to explain herself.

“I mean, I’m confident in us. I’m not just content, but happy with our life. I believe that our relationship is going to keep on being this part of my life that is steady and stable and making us both happy, regardless of marriage. I really love this,” she lifted her own hand, admiring her own ring. This piece of simple jewelry that had become a part of her. “I love that we have this physical aspect, something I can look at all of the time, even when you’re not here. But whether we add a second band to it or not isn’t really the biggest deal to me. I like the legal aspects, the logistical parts,” she acknowledged. “Which have always been the most appealing benefits to marriage, to me.”

“I love being with such a romantic,” Taylor deadpanned, but at least there was that light twinkling look in her eyes again.

She scoffed. “And nothing I’m saying is coming as a surprise to you. Because you know me. And…” She trailed off, studying Taylor’s face, closely.

There was an intensity to her still, something that was just a bit… off.

Taylor was often intense, but not in this way.

“Can you please tell me what it is?” She was close to begging. In fact, she would beg to know. Whatever it took.

For a few moments, silence beat between them.

Before Taylor murmured, “My mother died.”

Alarm, terror, bafflement zapped through Brooke, and she felt breathless from the pain of it. That – no. No. That wasn’t possible. Brooke would know, she’d have known –

Taylor reached out and gripped Brooke’s hand, tightly, clearly being able to feel the way her words were rocking through her. “Not… my mom, as in Amy. My,” she pursed her lips, her eyebrows furrowing deeply. “The woman that gave birth to me.”

At a total loss, Brooke leaned back for a second to take it all in. The adrenaline from thinking it was Amy who Taylor was talking about fading into the confusion, because…

“I didn’t realize you had a relationship with her,” she said, searchingly.

She was just so confused, because it wasn’t like she and Taylor were new in their relationship. They had a whole life together, and this felt really big. Like something Brooke should know.

Taylor loved to tell her just about everything. After her day either at city hall or the yoga studio, she’d regale Brooke all about her day. When she was traveling, she still wrote Brooke those long emails every day, like they’d done when they’d worked on the list together.

So… how did she not know this?

“I don’t,” Taylor answered, shortly.

And she sounded – well, the only word that came to Brooke’s mind was bitter, but that was so antithetical to who Taylor was, as a person. None of it made any sense.

Cautiously, she reached out and placed her free hand on Taylor’s back, stroking back and forth. Relieved when Taylor leaned into her touch.

“I, uh,” Taylor cleared her throat. “I found her, once, years ago. Within the first year that I left Faircombe.”

Which made sense why Brooke didn’t know. She’d be willing to bet that no one, not even Savannah knew, if Taylor’s body language and tone were anything to go by.

Taylor let out a deep sigh, looking across the room with narrowed eyes, focused on nothing Brooke could see. “I don’t know what I was expecting. I don’t know why I had any expectations; beyond whatever interactions we had when I was literally an infant, we had no relationship. I didn’t know a thing about her.”

“Feelings about our parents can be really weird like that,” Brooke agreed, softly.

Because god only fucking knew about her own complicated, unresolved issues with her mother. Let alone her father, whatever happened to him, wherever he was in this world.

Taylor nodded slowly, her eyebrows furrowing.

“So, I found her. Went to her house. And when she opened the door, I was so – she looked just like me. You know, Ben and Savannah and Amy and my dad…” She trailed off, shaking her head with a smile that had a sliver of lightness to it.

“Yes, the sun-kissed gods, I’m familiar with them.”

“Exactly. It was so fascinating to see her. To see someone that had my eyes, looking back at me. And for that single moment, I thought maybe I’d found this part of me. You know? The part I’d never managed to find here in Faircombe. The part I was running toward. Running away from?” She waved her hand, as if to say she didn’t have the ability to analyze that right now. Fair.

Brooke’s stomach was already tying into knots, at the anticipation of whatever would be coming next. Because clearly, it was not going to be good.

“She didn’t even know who I was, even when I said my name,” Taylor’s voice dipped low and raspy, and Brooke could feel the sting of the hurt in her words. A humorless laugh fell from Taylor’s full mouth. “We looked exactly alike, and my name was Taylor, and it wasn’t until I said my full name that it dawned on her.”

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Taylor shifted again to look at Brooke. “We had a cup of coffee at a diner down the street from her house. She’d said she’d “always wondered” what happened to me. And you know, that was when it started. This feeling of – being pissed off.” Taylor’s tone edged into a heated, muted anger.

Again, so unlike her, it threw Brooke off.

But she could absolutely relate – mostly because the idea of Taylor being treated like that also pissed Brooke off, that feeling mixing with this soft, achy sympathy inside of her.

“Like, what the hell did she mean she wondered about me? I was here. I was right here, in Faircombe, with my dad. Right where she left me.” Taylor used her other hand, the one that wasn’t tightly gripping Brooke’s, to gesture around the room. “She could have come back to see me or written a letter or a fucking postcard, at any time. So, she couldn’t have really wondered that much. You know?”

Brooke nodded. She did know. Not in the same exact way, but she’d had two parents who couldn’t have given a shit about her well-being for most of her life, so… yeah. She understood the sentiment probably better than anyone else she could think of.  

And she knew how much it hurt, even when you tried your best to wall yourself off from it. And it dug into her, sharply, painfully, knowing that was how Taylor had been made to feel.

Taylor, who was… she was quite simply the brightest light. She was as close to perfection in human form that Brooke had ever known – would ever know. For her to feel rejected like that…

Brooke’s throat felt tight, and she grasped even tighter at Taylor’s hand. Giving her an anchor.  

Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, as she gripped Brooke’s hand back. “I stayed there, though, at the diner she worked at. Having that mediocre cup of coffee. And I told her that I’d left Faircombe, that I was doing my own thing.”

Her gaze dipped down, staring at their intertwined hands, stroking her thumb over Brooke’s knuckles, clearly going deep into thought.

“That was what she was the happiest about, in that entire visit. Not about seeing me or talking to me. She was so thrilled that I wasn’t in Faircombe, anymore. Good for you,” Taylor parroted in a dismissive scoff. “I even asked – because I was desperate to know – what happened. What happened to make her leave?”

Brooke knew very well Taylor’s story, and the final straw of what had made her leave, so of course she’d want to know about her mother’s story.

Taylor worked her jaw back and forth, still looking down at their hands. Seeming invested in their physical connection. “And she had nothing, really, to say. Believe me, I was open to hearing it. Hearing about my dad, or the gossip, or – anything. I think a part of me even wanted it. I wanted her to give me a real reason. And all she had was that she’d wanted more. That she hadn’t wanted to be stuck here, in a place that she couldn’t ever see moving forward.”

Well, no place was ever going to move forward if people weren’t willing to make any changes. But Taylor knew Brooke’s soapbox very well, and this was very much not the time to point that out.

Even so, Taylor sent her a knowing look, one that had a little, sneaky smile. And it was a smile Brooke was so fucking relieved to see in this moment, just because she wanted to see that lightness.

“At the time, I didn’t know what to do with that. With any of it. I knew I didn’t care to have a relationship with her beyond that, and clearly she hadn’t wanted one with me, either. So, I kept going on my way. Put it in the back of my mind, and kept moving.”

With that, Taylor took in a long breath, holding it for several deliberate seconds – one of her breathing exercises – before releasing it, slow and measured.

“Yesterday, I got a phone call. Apparently, she’d had me listed somewhere as her next of kin.”

“Oh.” She reeled back, taking that in as they came full circle.

“Mhmm,” Taylor hummed.

“Do you… is there anything you’d like to do? For us to do?” She picked over her words and her tone carefully.

She had no positive feelings about this woman, the one that had made Taylor feel so unwanted.

But, also, Taylor wouldn’t have existed in this world without her. And she and Taylor – whether married or not – were together, their lives intertwined in a way that was very permanent with or without the legalities. If there was something Brooke could do in terms of organizing or executing a service, doing anything that could make this easier for Taylor, she was ready. In fact, it was where she thrived.

Taylor shook her head, squeezing Brooke’s hand in appreciation. “No, honey. But – thank you. I made a few calls while I was on my way to the airport, made some arrangements for her out of respect of the fact that she’s a human being who died, and… that’s that.”

The bitterness from earlier was gone, replaced with a tone Brooke was far more used to. Something more peaceful. She could tell that Taylor really meant that, that she wasn’t making that decision out of anger.

Very Taylor of her. Perfectly so.

“So I’ve just been… thinking. About everything. About cyclical patterns, about what life and death, about what I really want while you and I are here on this earth.”

Yes, this was very Taylor, and Brooke was so beyond happy to hear it.

“My mother had the right to leave here. To never come back. To leave me.” Taylor said the words like she was releasing any emotion in them, letting it all go.

In a way that would never cease to amaze her.

“Only, I also can’t help but think how dare she? How dare she turn around and act like she was better? She was so proud of herself for leaving Faircombe, but all she did was end up in a different town in Nebraska, working at a diner. In our one conversation together, she blamed by dad for living here, and how dare she?” She repeated, heatedly. “He never even legally shut the door on her even after she left me. The reality was that her life here never held her back; she held herself back. And she might have left here physically, but obviously she never moved on from certain things.”

Brooke agreed with a silent nod.

“It’s all been in my mind since yesterday, whirling around. All of it. How glad I am that I did leave here, that I had every experience I’d dreamed of.” She reached out, cupping Brooke’s jaw, holding so their gazes were firm, steady, unyielding. Like she was seeing into the very depths of Brooke.

It used to drive her crazy when Taylor did things like this. Make her feel squirmy and uncomfortable. But now, even though she still felt her stomach clench, still felt a little rush, it was something she’d come to love.

She’d never wanted to be seen before. But now, when it was Taylor specifically, she loved it.

“And, equal to that, I am so fucking happy that I came back here. That I actually resolved my past instead of allowing myself to keep running circles around it. I love that we built a life where I can travel for weeks at a time but come home to you. That I really can have both a home and still wander when I need to. I’m so glad I’m not going to end up like that. Like her.”

“You never would have, you know,” she needed to say it. To make Taylor know.

She leaned more firmly into Taylor’s touch, maintaining eye contact so she could see how much Brooke meant this.

“Even if you never came back here, you weren’t someone who held onto bitterness. You wouldn’t have been the same person she was.”

Because Taylor was so much more than that. And even though Brooke’s life was made better, made complete, in every way with Taylor deciding to build a home here with her, Taylor still would have had a big, beautiful life if she hadn’t come back to Faircombe.

Taylor’s dark eyes were slightly glassy, but she didn’t cry. She did slide her thumb gently over Brooke’s lower lip, making her shiver.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Still, she shook her head. “But, even so, I want it. I know that marriage isn’t legally binding, that people can end it whenever they want. But I want to be with you, legally, on paper, in every way that matters in an official capacity. I want it to be you for me, in every way that matters. And I know our life together isn’t defined in any way by marriage or a ceremony or filing the license. But I’ve spent a long time not wanting to have this kind of… tether. Only, I feel it now. I feel tethered to you, in the best way. Whether I’m in Faircombe or traveling, I feel like I’m yours. Like you’re mine.”

“I am,” she confirmed, quietly.

She reached up and captured Taylor’s hand in hers, tugging it down as she leaned in to press their lips together. Feeling those perfectly full lips against her own, breathing Taylor in.

When she leaned back, Taylor was smiling at her.

“I want to celebrate that. I want us to make everything official, in all of the ways. Because we can, and because I love you. But if you don’t want to do the whole–”

“Taylor, just because I’m somewhat ambivalent about the idea of marriage, there is nothing I’m more serious about than you.” Nothing she had ever been more serious about. “If you want to go all-in on getting married officially, I’m ready. Whenever you are.”

Taylor nodded, letting out a long, deep sigh. But it sounded more content than she’d seemed since they’d gotten home. Like she was genuinely at peace now that she’d unburdened herself to Brooke about everything that had been on her mind.

In a split-second, Taylor shifted. Pushing herself up to her knees and pivoting to bracket Brooke in under her, her hands falling to Brooke’s shoulders to balance herself.

She blinked up at Taylor, feeling her throat run dry. The lighting in the den was soft and dim, casting an ethereal glow around Taylor, and her hands moved to grip at Taylor’s hips like they had a mind of their own.

“Now that we’ve covered everything, I think it’s time we commemorate my return home,” Taylor murmured, before dipping down to press her lips to Brooke’s.

***

In the morning, Brooke had crept downstairs to start the coffee and check on the overnight oats. Not that there was much “checking” to do, but the idea of leaving food to sit… get soggy? in the fridge for hours felt inherently wrong to her.

She wasn’t really an overnight oat person, but Taylor was. So, she’d prepared them for Taylor yesterday before picking her up from the airport.

“Brooke?” Taylor came up behind her, dropping a warm, soft kiss to her shoulder.

“I was trying to let you get some sleep,” she murmured back, even as she leaned into Taylor. She could feel that Taylor had just pulled on one of her old, oversized shirts and that was all she was wearing.

“I know,” Taylor acknowledged, placing another of those languid, warm kisses to the side of Brooke’s neck. “And I appreciate that. But I wanted to tell you now, in the light of day–”

“Kind of,” Brooke jokingly cut in, glancing at the window, where the early morning light was just starting to filter in.

Taylor squeezed her arms a little tighter. “I still want it. I know you weren’t going to say anything last night, but I also know you.” She leaned in, nuzzling in to Brooke’s neck.

Making her shiver and sigh, and her grip on the mug in her hand tightened.

“I’ve slept on it. And I am so ready to finish what we’ve started here,” Taylor whispered against her neck, gently wigging her fingers against Brooke, so she could feel the way her ring slid against her.

There was genuinely nothing Brooke wanted more. It was as if someone had reached into her mind and read the deepest, most intense dreams she’d ever fathomed.

And if Taylor was ready, so was she. For anything.

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