I sob. I break. The strength is drained from me, and I slide down the door until my ass hits the floor. I bury my face in my legs as I pull them to my chest. It’s embarrassing crying so much, but I have a long way to go before I’m strong enough to pull through this horror. I thought Owen was on my side, but I don’t think he is.
I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but he isn’t acting like the man I met in the woods. He’s doing everything he can to avoid me. I thought he was my friend, but really, he was only sticking by me because he felt obligated. I had to tell my humiliating story over again, and he has the nerve to say I gave up?
Sniffling, I place my palms on the cold tile floor and push myself into a standing position. I shuffle to the unmade bed and lay down, letting the cold sheets rest against my heated skin. Why does everything in this world have to hurt?
I bury myself under the comforter and curl up in a ball. My hands are clutched to my chest as another wave of intense emotion blindsides me. I’m beyond damaged.
Saying something is damaged gives hope that it is able to be fixed. That’s not me. I’m shattered into microscopic pieces, pieces that are too small to be put back together. I’m the piece that gets lost, the one you can never find. Chunks of me are missing forever, underneath the bed in the cabin where he kept me, in the floorboards beneath where he beat me, in the bed where he raped me, and in the woods where I ran free.
Pieces of me are gone.
Maybe staying here is a bad idea. I don’t have anywhere to go, but I can’t offer anyone anything in this house. Owen clearly wants nothing to do with me. I’m so pathetic for thinking he had feelings for me. Who would want a woman like me?
I bring the comforter up and under my chin and stare at the wall. There are a few pieces of art on it. I’m sure Jaxon paid a pretty penny for the artwork too. The golds and blacks swirls together, and it’s just a bunch of splatter to be honest, but it makes a beautiful painting. To me, it is saying, ‘these two ideas do not belong together, but when they are, they are magnificent.’
It reminds me of how Owen and I are together.
A knock sounds at the door, but I don’t turn my head or jump out of bed to see who it is. I know.
“Jolie? Please open the door. Let’s talk.”
Owen’s voice is a reminder of everything I can never have. I don’t answer him and continue to stare at the painting in front of me.
“Please open the door,” he begs, and his fist thuds against the wall. “I’ll stay here all night if I have to.”
Then he better get comfortable because I’m not leaving this bed until I know how to live my life independently, away from the pressures this world loves to offer.
“Jolie…” His voice breaks the same way my heart is.
Shattered.
Fourteen
Owen
Previous day
I should tell her I’m leaving, but I know I can’t. There is something I need to do, and she can’t know what it is. Plus, it will be good for her to be away from me. I think she has feelings for me and being away will make her realize that maybe she doesn’t.
Or she does.
It’s hard to say.
All I know is I have feelings, and with them, I need to admit them out loud to the one person I made a promise to twenty years ago.
I lay the red roses on Annabeth’s grave as I sit on the wet grass. I bundle my peacoat around me as it starts to mist. The weeping willow’s arms sway and dance as the wind picks up with the nearby storm inching closer.
The weather fits the mood.
“Hey, you two. It’s been too long, and I’m so sorry for that. For a long time, I couldn’t muster up the courage to come. I was too sad.” I rub my hand over the tombstone, the part where a mother is holding her child. I made sure to have that engraved because she was a mom the moment she realized she was pregnant. My eyes burn, and I clear my throat. “I miss you,” I choke out. “The both of you. God, so fucking much.”
The wind swirls around me again, almost like something is engulfing me in a hug, but I know that isn’t the case.
“Losing you, that was the hardest time in my life. I didn’t know how to live for twenty years. I yearned for you every day. I made a promise to you, a promise that I’d love again, and I’m not going to lie… I think you knew I would do everything I could to avoid it. I did. I never planned on loving anyone again. I never planned on having children again. The need kind of faded when Grayson’s son came to live with us. Dillon. You would have liked him. Smart kid. He beat cancer, you know. We don’t see much of him during the day anymore because he is strong and healthy enough to go to school. How great is that? Now he has a bunch of friends, and I feel like I never see him anymore. And you remember Quinn, right? I feel like I told you about her, but it’s been awhile. Anyway, she’s pregnant with twins.”
Thunder rolls above me, and the clouds are darkening quick. “I took it hard at first,” I admit. “Everyone is so happy. The guys, besides Heaven, have foun
d love, and when Quinn’s pregnant belly started to show, I died on the inside, Annabeth. It took me so long to figure out how to be happy for them because all I could think about was ‘what about me?’ I know, it’s selfish. But what about me? What about you? What about our daughter? I’d give anything to hold you two again, for one minute.