A Shattered Heart (Fractured Lives 2)

"You do?" I asked, leaning against my empty bar.

She nodded her head. "I don't think people on the outside looking in get it, but after something happens like what we went through, the outside world suddenly feels abrasive. Noises are louder, smells are stronger, and the light seems a little bit harsher. It took me months to stop thinking that everyone was looking at me because of this," she said, holding up her cane. "I began to feel like it was defining me."

"Is that when you started dating your EMT?"

She chuckled at my question. "My EMT? I like that. But yes, it was around that time. I fought my feelings for him at first. I was terrified to let myself care for someone else. It was habit to keep everyone at arm's length. Keep them far enough away that they couldn't infiltrate my heart."

I nodded. It could have been me talking. Everything she said were things I had struggled with. I was ashamed I waited so long to reconnect with her. If I wasn't s

o selfish, we could have leaned on each other this past year and stumbled to the other side a little bit stronger.

"I'm sorry, Mac."

She reached over, grabbed my hand, and squeezed it. She didn't need to ask what I was sorry for. We both knew. "It's all water under the bridge. No more apologies, okay? No more regrets. But most of all, no more blame. I know we all have our demons and it hasn't been easy, but we made it. All three of us. I've seen the differences in Zach, and I know that's because of you. He relates to you better than he does me. I know why and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry you both lost the loves of your lives, but I hope you both get a second chance. I know he'll always love Tracey and you'll always love Dan." Her voice trailed off as Brian stepped into my living room.

I could tell by his expression he'd heard the last part of her speech. Mac shot me a guilty look as Brian picked up a box and left my apartment without a word.

"Sorry," she mouthed to me once he was gone. I didn't answer since Dad and Bentley pushed into the apartment at that moment.

"I think that's it," I told them, trying to ignore the nagging pulling on my heart. As soon as we were alone I'd talk to Brian and explain what Mac and I'd been talking about.

But as it turned out, I didn't get the chance I was hoping for that evening. Mom was waiting for us along with Patricia, Tracey's mom, and her twin boys when we showed up at my new apartment. Patricia gave me a big hug but didn't chastise me for the chasm I'd created the last two years. Instead, she and her boys jumped right into helping unload the truck. I'd lucked out and scored a first-floor unit this time. It was two buildings away from Brian's, which was a small relief. A little separation would be good.

Mac and I were told to man the apartment so we could give out direction where things went while we unpacked. A couple of Brian's buddies from the football team showed up and before I knew it the truck was unpacked. The noise level in my apartment grew and Mom suggested we take the moving party to the Longhorn down the road before the other tenants filed a complaint. She included Brian and his friends in the invite, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was more inquisitive than Dad, and there was no way she'd let me slide out of this one.

At the restaurant I maneuvered it so Brian and I were on opposite ends of the long table. If he noticed, he didn't comment. He'd been several degrees colder since Mac's statement at my old apartment. I was tempted to text him from my end of the table but held off. Our group took up one whole side of the restaurant. It was loud and chaotic and saturated in déjà vu. It'd been a lifetime ago, but that didn't affect the poignancy of the moment. The urge to flee kept me on the edge of my seat. It was glaringly obvious who was missing. I glanced over at Mac to see if she could feel it too. She was leaning into Bentley, who was rubbing her back in slow, soothing strokes. Her eyes were sad as they met mine. We might have made it to the other side, but the question was, could we survive the other side?

***

I was unpacking a box of books later that evening when someone knocked on my door. I glanced at the time on my phone and saw it was almost midnight. At my old apartment a knock on the door at this time would have been ignored, if not feared. I knew who it was though. Climbing up off the floor, I wiped the cardboard dust off my legs as I made my way to my front door.

"Hey," I greeted Brian, who was leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey," he answered quietly, studying me. A nagging feeling pulled at me. Was he here to end things with me? I shouldn't be surprised. I'd been pushing him away for months now. If he was smart, he'd cut his losses sooner than later.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked, holding the door open for him.

He accepted my invitation without a word. I closed the door behind him and slowly counted to ten in my head. Whatever happened in the next few minutes, I would have to deal with it.

"Place looks good," Brian said, leaning against the wall. "Nice and bright."

"It's definitely brighter," I agreed. I'd yet to decide if I was going to hang up my blackout curtains. I kind of liked all the natural light that poured in through the large living room window earlier. "Thanks for recommending the place."

"No problem," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. I hated the formality of the moment. We were like two strangers. If he was breaking up with me, I wished he'd hurry up and get it over with. I should have let him off the hook and done it for him. I opened my mouth but the words refused to come. I'd lied to myself. I wasn't prepared for this, and I definitely couldn't handle it. I liked Brian. The word like seemed so inadequate to describe what I felt for him. It was wrong on so many levels to use the word that fit my feelings for him. As a matter of fact, my feelings for him could be seen as a betrayal for the one person I'd claimed to love. The love I'd lost. And now I was on the verge of losing again. The room spun at my revelation. It was too soon. Way too soon. However, it didn't matter. I was sick of running and hiding.

I stood up on shaky legs, afraid I wouldn't be able to convince him to stick around before he could lower the boom. He didn't speak or move as I stepped in front of him. I moved in closer, sliding my arms around his waist. I liked how easily we fit together. Two unique puzzle pieces that had been specially crafted to click together.

He held himself stiff for a moment before wrapping his own arms around me. His chin rested on my head while his heart thumped against my cheek resting against his chest. "What are we doing here, Kat?"

He wasn't asking about our embrace. He was searching for something deeper.

"I don't know, but I don't want to stop," I confessed, tilting my face up so I could look at him. His jawline hardened. "Do you?"

His hands moved from my waist to my arms, holding me in place."I don't know, Kat. I thought I could do this. I told myself it was okay that you were still in love with my brother. I knew I needed to give you time. We're young, there's no rush, but what I wasn't expecting was the deep-rooted jealousy I feel for my dead brother. It's fucked up that I want to smash his face in when you were his first. I feel like I've been chasing his shadow my whole life. I'm not sure I'm noble enough to share you. I want you all for myself. I want my face to be the one you see when we make love. I want my name to be the one you utter when you think about love. It pisses me off that when he was alive he got all those amazing years with you and now in death he still gets a large piece of you. I want that piece for myself. If that means I'm going to hell, I don't care. I came here tonight to end things." His hands tightened on my arms. It wasn't a punishing hold but more an act of desperation. "I want you for myself," he repeated, leveling me with a look that burned with agony. "Is that wrong?"

I reached for his hand, pulling it from my arm. His other hand dropped in defeat. Before he could step away I raised my hand to his cheek. "Is it wrong I want all of that too?" I whispered raggedly. "Is it wrong your face has already started to replace his? That you're the last person I think of before I go to sleep and the first thing I think about in the morning? Is it wrong I resent the memories for making me sad when ones about you have the power to make me so happy?"

His hands reached up to my face, anchoring it in place. "Kat," he murmured, lowering his mouth to mine. My name was a plea and enough to send my pulse into overdrive as ribbons of goose bumps chased up my spine. His lips were hot and greedy against mine as they took ownership. Everything about his mouth on mine was different. He kissed me like he was burning from the inside out. It was desperate and demanding. He pulled back after a minute and rested his forehead against mine. "Kat." A shudder moved through him making him shake in my arms. I knew what he wanted.