"Yeah, well, I'm not sure Amanda really qualifies as a mark. But as for the rundown part..." She glanced around. "It's gotten a bit worse for wear since we were here last, hasn't it?"
His heart tightened as memories of the two of them together in this house swelled inside him. So much they'd had together. And so much they'd lost.
Tonight, he'd tried to punish her for that, but maybe it was on him, too. He hadn't fought, he'd simply accepted. He'd been so goddamn furious when she'd said she was leaving him that he just let her go.
"I'm sorry," he said, putting everything he felt behind the words.
She tilted her head. "You should be. What exactly are you apologizing for?"
"Right now? I'm apologizing for tonight. For being an asshole. For turning what I felt for you into a game and trying to punish you for leaving me. It killed me, you walking away. But it was your choice, and what I did was unforgivable."
"Choice," she whispered, so softly that he wasn't even certain that she realized she'd spoken the word.
"You chose a life without me, and then when the network told me I had to do the show with you, it was another goddamn choice that I didn't get to make. So I decided to act like a petulant baby who didn't get his own way. It's not an excuse, I know. But maybe it's an explanation." He sighed. "Does that make any sense at all?"
For a long time, she said nothing. Then she met his eyes. "Yeah. I get that. It's not easy giving up control, especially when you don't have any choice in the matter."
She looked away quickly, staying just out of arm's length as she walked past him, then crawled up into the window seat where they used to sit to look out at the garden. "So, you're saying I was right?"
He jerked his head up sharply. "About what?"
"What I told you in the hotel room--that's not the kind of man you are."
"Who fucks women to get what he wants? Who humiliates them and forces them into untenable situations because he's not man enough to suck it up and deal with the fact that his heart got broken?" He shrugged. "I wouldn't have thought that was me. But then you walked back into my life. And I went a little bit off the rails."
Her brows rose. "A little bit?"
"A lot. But you always did inspire large gestures from me."
She laughed. A full-on, genuine laugh. And some of the ice around his heart melted.
"Brooke." He heard the need in his voice, then closed his mouth with a shake of his head. He wasn't going to ask why. He wasn't going to destroy this moment. Instead he said, "I've missed you."
"I know. I've missed you, too."
Her voice was so soft that he was afraid he hadn't heard right.
"What?"
"Well, not the you from the last couple of days." She lifted her brows as if to punctuate the point. "But the real Spencer. I miss him."
He almost snapped that she'd have the old Spencer if she hadn't walked out on their wedding, but he kept his anger in check. This, after all, was progress. So all he said was, "Oh."
He moved to stand beside her, then nodded at the seat. She hesitated, then pulled up her feet to make a space for him.
The silence hung between them once again as thick as the dust in the air. Finally, Spencer cleared his throat. "I went and saw Richie. After you left."
"After he got clemency," she said. "Of course, you would have." A blush rose on her cheeks. "I did, too."
The revelation startled him. "You--what? Why?"
She lifted one shoulder. "It was a few weeks later. I-I always liked
Richie."
"He liked you, too. Told me I should fight for you."
"Did he?" She rested her chin on her knees. "Why didn't you?"