Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

I jumped about ten feet in the air when my phone rattled on the desk and went off with a shrill ring.

“Crap,” I muttered, fumbling to quickly answer. “Hi,” I rushed low, praying I’d silenced the ringing before it woke the rest of the house.

“I heard you ran into you know who,” Faith drawled, her country accent thick. Funny how the second I’d crossed state lines, mine had come rushing back, too.

Pushing from the white chair that matched the desk, I tiptoed over to my door that I’d left open in case either of the boys needed me during the night. I poked my head out into the hallway.

Coast clear.

I quietly latched the door shut, quick to pad back over to my bed. My room was decorated exactly the same as it’d been when I’d left—pale yellow walls and a yellow and green floral comforter, the bed piled high with fluffy throw pillows.

“Word sure does travel fast in this town, doesn’t it?” I mumbled low as I crawled on top of my bed and pulled my knees to my chest. “Should have just put out a notice in the paper.”

“This is Broadshire Rim. You know it does,” she told me, a tinge of laughter in her voice, though it was the concern interwoven with it that I really heard. “But I heard this one straight from the horse’s mouth.”

My guts twisted at the thought of her talking to Maxon. Being in his space. It just seemed . . . so wrong.

Like she was consorting with the enemy. Which was ridiculous because I knew full well they’d remained friends all this time.

“But don’t worry, the gossips around here are alive and well. I did overhear you got a job at Nelson Dentistry when I ran in to pick up some things at the drycleaners. Word on the street is you’re making double what poor Sandy was. Congratulations.” She was holding back wry laughter.

“They know nothing . . . I’m making triple,” I deadpanned.

I only wished.

She barked out a laugh. “Are you lost in some faraway fantasy again?”

“You know that’s where I like to live.”

“Time to come back down to reality with the rest of us, my friend.”

“Do I have to?” It was almost a whine.

Because I really, really wanted to stay there. In a place where I could make up all the circumstances and outcomes, and I didn’t have to deal with any of this that felt so out of control.

The teasing evaporated from her voice. “You do, Izzy. You do.”

Heaviness pressed down on my chest. The sigh I released weighed every bit as much. I brought my thumb to my mouth, nibbling at the nail.

I wasn’t quite sure that I’d ever felt so many emotions all at once.

Mixed, conflicted, and contradictory.

Hope floated around me, this bright, bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. Benjamin had struggled for so long, and now, he was getting his break. A bolster to his treatment. A buoy to his life.

And I’d gotten a job.

Relief billowed out at the thought.

A job that I needed terribly.

On top of that, it felt so good to be home with my parents, their love and support so strong within these walls that I felt as if I were walking around wearing a blanket of it.

But there was a dark blemish in the middle.

I could feel her hesitation before she tentatively asked, “So, how did it go? When you saw him?”

I shrugged as if it didn’t matter when it mattered so much more than I wanted it to. “Probably better than I could have predicted.”

“Really?” Faith’s tone filled right up with surprise.

“Yep. Ran out of there as fast as I could. Fight or flight. I picked the flight. I’m thinkin’ it was a good call.”

Because the last thing I wanted to do was hash out the past with Maxon Chambers in front of the Broadshire Rim grocery store. If I thought news of our unlucky meeting had spread fast, that would have caught like a wildfire in the middle of a drought.

I could almost hear Faith’s disapproval and worry.

“What?” I asked, chewing at my lip in discomfort.

“You know you can’t ignore him forever.”

“Why not?” Okay, of course, I knew. But procrastinating felt like a much safer option

“Because like I said, word travels fast.”

Pricks of apprehension stung my skin, biting down.

Barbs of regret and fear.

It was loaded down by a mountain of old pain that I still had no clue how to deal with. Maybe I’d ignored it for too long. Locked it in that secret place and pretended it wasn’t real.

The unfortunate part? That meant I’d been carrying it around forever. And it was always right there, lurking, threatening to break out. Accumulating in size.

I was terrified if I fully released it, let it out to run wild, it might just consume me.