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Twenty-One

Back on set, under the hot lights overhead, Sarabeth delivered her final line on Brooks Knows Best.

Her hand was in his, and Isaac poured what might well be the remainder of his energy into delivering his last spoken line of the finale. His costar, her eyes shining, gave him everything he needed.

“Worth a shot, I guess.”

The live studio audience went wild. Their cheers and whistles failed to boost his spirits. He was too weighed down by how wrong everything had gone between him and Meghan.

The noise faded into the background as he led Sarabeth down a hallway that ended behind the set. His other costars were there, patting him on the back, whispering their congratulations. In a few minutes they’d return to the stage and take a bow. Hug each other and celebrate the wrap of their reprised roles.

It’d been magical. Everything he could have wished for. Not to mention Charles Howard was calling today. At one point, news that Howard was interested in him had Isaac so excited, he could barely speak. That excitement was still inside him.

Somewhere. Deep, deep down.

At the moment, any remaining excitement or hope was being eclipsed by misery. Not a word he used lightly.

Sarabeth’s hand hit his shoulder. “How are you?”

“Never better.” He faked a smile, same as he’d done most of the day. He couldn’t talk about what was upsetting him. Talking about his and Meghan’s relationship ending would reduce him to a whimpering ball of despair. He had to finish strong. This show was the only solace he had left. His best bet was to let everyone believe he was emotional about the show ending. “It’s tough. The end of another era, you know?”

“I know.” Sarabeth sang her praises of their cast and crew, waxed poetic about the characters she and Isaac had embodied. He nodded while she spoke, but he wasn’t listening.

He was thinking of Meghan. The end of their era. He was committed to being a part of his child’s life forever, but had lost Meghan in the process. He cared about her, but when she’d mentioned love, he’d panicked. He’d had no idea how to accept the gift she offered. It’d been too much for him to take in at the time.

Max, who had come in for one line the writers added as an excuse to have him on the show’s finale, appeared in front of Isaac like a shadowy gargoyle. He looked unhappy, and Isaac assumed that was his fault. Meghan had left his apartment and hadn’t come back. Kendall had come over to collect her sister’s things, promising Isaac that she’d be professional, and then warning him not to push her.

“Not now,” Isaac said, keeping his voice low. He didn’t want to discuss his situation with Max. Now, or ever. “We have to go out and bow.”

“Need help pulling your head out of your ass so you can see where you’re going?” Max growled.

Isaac, depleted of emotional energy, ignored his brother. They filed onto the set to take their bows, hug each other and wave to the audience. The show’s theme song played, and nostalgia hit Isaac hard.

He’d started acting on the show at age five, with his twin brother, before he knew what acting was. Cut to a decade later, he’d extended his time as Danny Brooks as long as possible by doing live appearances. Now, years later, he was on a replica of that same set, his brother by his side.

It was surreal.

His smile was genuine as he embraced his on-screen parents, Sarabeth and finally Max, who pulled Isaac in to give him a thump on the back. Into his ear, Max offered a gruff, “Proud of you, man. You did great work.”

Not gonna lie, Isaac had needed to hear that more than he needed his next full breath. Backstage again, they signed one of the set walls with Sharpie markers. Cecil was there, too, shaking hands with the cast and thanking each of them for making the show a success.

They’d done it. Filming was complete. Max had come back. Isaac had won over his gruff executive producer by plucking a fake fiancée out of the ether. A woman who used to love him, who now hated him. A woman who had radically and permanently changed his future.

“Isaac.” Cecil clasped Isaac’s hand. “Bring your bride around to my house. Maria and I would love to have you over for dinner. You, too, Max.”

Max craned an eyebrow. Isaac accepted with, “Sure thing,” even though his stomach clenched at the lie. Would Meghan ever have dinner with him again?

The producer left, and the remainder of the cast broke into small groups. Sarabeth was signing the set wall. Richard was filming it on his phone. Merilyn was hugging Ashley.

“Let’s go,” Max said, indicating the exit.

“Where?”

“I need a beer. You’re going to buy me one.”

“Max, I don’t—”

“Now.”

Ten minutes later they were settled into a corner booth at Rocky’s and Max was glaring at Isaac like he’d never stopped. “Why did you propose?”

“Why did you propose?” Isaac snapped.

“I love Kendall. I want to marry her. That’s why I proposed. Your turn.”

Isaac eyed his beer, unsure how much of the truth to tell his brother. He had planned on telling Max what he’d told Meghan. That it made sense to be married for practical purposes. Instead, he said, “Love is complicated.”

“It is when the only person you love is yourself.”

“That’s not fair.” Isaac frowned.


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