Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

My cell beeps with a message and when I pull it out, I see the notification, telling me that I have a voicemail.

“I am not!” she gasps, her hand flying to her chest in mock outrage. “Cocoa is good for you, it settles you for the night.” I don’t look up as she comes closer, standing beside me. “Tris?” she asks, concern etched in her voice.

“It’s Harmony,” I whisper, my voice raw with emotion.

“So, talk to her,” she says flippantly, pulling out the chair next to me and sitting in silence.

My thumb unlocks the cell, but I hesitate, not sure whether to delete the message or listen to it. If I listen to it, it could change everything. She won’t want me after I tell her the truth; but if I delete it, it’ll be over for good. I feel like I’m at a crossroads; the same way I felt before I climbed those stairs in her studio.

Making a decision, I huff out a breath and press the button to listen to it as I put it to my ear, hearing her emotion-filled words. But it’s the two words—“I’m done”—that have me lifting out of my chair. The wooden legs scrape against the tiled floor and I let my hand drop, the cell hanging from my fingers loosely.

It’s one thing me walking away, knowing that once I get my head together, I can go back. But to hear those words from her tells me that I went too far: I pushed too hard and I broke us.

Me. It’s all on me—again.

The thought of never holding her close, touching her, kissing her, laughing with her, has a lump building in my throat. I need to go to her. I need to make this right.

“I have to—”

“Go.” Amelia waves me away. “Go and get your girl.” She smiles but I can’t do anything but nod as I practically run out of the house and to my car.

Her words bash around in my brain, repeating over and o

ver again all the way there. The way she sounded; so wounded and broken. I did that to her. I made her feel like that. I want to punch myself in the face right now.

Before I know it, I’m outside her studio and pushing out of my car, running up the cobblestone path, the lights guiding my way in the darkness of the night.

The door pushes open and I frown at her leaving it unlocked at this time of night. I know she has adult art class tonight, but that was over a while ago. She should have locked up by now.

“Harmony?” I call out for her, stepping farther inside. When I don’t get an answer, I walk into the main area, not seeing her, but I can feel her energy. I know she’s here before I hear her voice.

“Stupid, stupid.” She berates herself.

My head whips in the direction of her voice and my feet are moving toward her before my brain catches up.

“Harmony?” I ask when I get to the open door of her office.

Her head snaps up and her eyes connect with mine; void of the loving look I always seem to find when I stare deep into her eyes. It just about guts me. I’m too late.

“What do you want from me?” Her voice breaks.

“I…” I rake my hands through my hair and down my face, looking off to the side and seeing the walls full to the brim with art. “I think it’s time.”

I turn back to her as her face turns angry, her cheeks becoming red. “Time? I’ve had enough of time, it brings nothing but misery.” She stands from the chair she’s sitting in. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head and stepping toward her, but one look has me coming to a halt. “I mean it’s time for me to stop running.” I let my gaze drop from hers again because it’s too painful to see that look in her eyes when it’s aimed at me. “It’s time I told you everything. I need you to understand.”

“I’m done trying to understand, because right now you’re assuming I even want to hear any of it.” She huffs out a long breath which has me raising my gaze to hers. “What’s done is done.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to find some sort of crack in her facade. I search for what feels like hours, but in reality, it’s mere seconds. I don’t see a single thing that tells me that this is a front and I feel like I’ve lost her for good.

I know I only have two options: to tell her and walk away, or to tell her and fight for her. If she doesn’t want me afterward, I’ll fight like I never have before to keep her, because the thought of never having her in my life is unbearable.

“All I want is for you to hear me out. When I’ve said what I have to say, if you still want me to walk away, then I will. No questions asked. I’ll let you live your life without me in it.”

She falters. “I…”

My breath comes out in a whoosh as I see the crack in her facade that I was searching for, and I use it to my advantage, jumping on it. “Just hear me out, Harm. Please.”