More Than Anything (Broken Pieces 1)

“I’m sorry about—”

Libby held up an authoritative finger, effectively shutting Tina up.

“Agnes!” she called, and her sous chef stepped forward. “I’m stepping out for a moment—take over.”

“Yes, Chef,” Agnes responded, practically genuflecting when Libby strode past her and headed toward the back doors. Tina had no choice but to follow. The back doors opened up into a narrow, well-lit alley. A couple of busboys were loitering out back sneaking a smoke, and they both started and put out their cigarettes when the two women stepped into the alley. They apologized and hastened back inside.

Tina knew they couldn’t give a damn about her, but they were appropriately terrified of her friend, who was a sweetheart in her everyday life but a no-nonsense authoritarian in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Tina completed her apology once they were alone, and Libby folded her arms over her chest and stared at Tina for a long moment.

“Having Clara in the office is clearly not working,” she said, ignoring Tina’s apology. “I’m trying to find another solution.”

“No. Libby . . . that’s not necessary. I just—”

“Tina, it’s not fair that you have to work with a crying baby in your space.”

“And it’s not fair that you have to move your infant daughter to a place where you won’t be close to her. We can make this work. It’s only day two. We’ll all get used to the arrangement.”

“Like you got used to having us stay with you that first month?”

Tina’s mouth fell open as she tried to figure out how to respond to that incredibly perceptive question.

“I . . .”

“It’s obvious you’re not too fond of babies, Tina. And that’s okay . . . but I’d rather have Clara around people who love her and enjoy her.”

That hurt so much it stole the breath right out of Tina’s lungs.

“I do love her,” she whispered, horrified that Libby would for a moment think that she didn’t. Libby didn’t look convinced, and Tina swallowed past the massive lump in her throat.

“It’s not just Clara. It’s all babies, Libby. I can’t be around them.”

“What happened to you?” Libby’s question didn’t sound concerned so much as accusatory. “You wanted to be an obstetrician, for God’s sake. And now you can’t even stand to look at my baby.”

Tina hadn’t realized that Libby had noticed that, and it made her feel sick to her stomach that Libby knew. And that her friend had completely misunderstood her reaction to Clara.

“I do love her. She’s beautiful.”

“It’s okay, Tina,” Libby said dismissively, when it so clearly was not okay. “I’ll work something out.”

She turned and walked away before Tina could fully formulate a response.

Tina wrapped her arms around her midriff and swallowed down a sob. God, this was supposed to be their exciting new start. Everything was supposed to get better, but . . . instead, nothing was going right, and Tina’s life looked like it would never get better.

That night, in bed after a long and stressful evening at the restaurant, Tina fell into a restless sleep, and for the first time in months, she had the recurring nightmare that had plagued her for nine years.

She was happy. So happy. The baby in her arms felt warm and perfect. Tina felt bathed in light and love, and everything in her world was finally wonderful again.

Sunshine. Warmth. Laughter. Love.

And so much happiness.

She held the baby close. She would never let him go. He belonged in her arms, and she loved having him there.

She looked down and he smiled at her. A beautiful smile. She shivered when the sun slid behind a cloud and looked up. The cloud was massive. Pitch black and stretching from one end of the horizon to the other, it covered the sun and left everything cold and dark and miserable.

She instinctively held the baby close, but her arms were empty . . .

He was nowhere to be found. She looked around for him. But he had vanished. It was getting darker, making it impossible to see. She called out to him.

But there was nothing. No sound at all. As if the black cloud had muffled all noise. She called him again . . . but even her voice had gone. She screamed until her throat felt lacerated, but there was never any sound.

Harris woke with a start. What the hell was that? It sounded like an animal in pain. He tilted his head, not sure if he had dreamed the noise, when it came again, louder than before.

“Fuck!” He leaped out of bed and slammed out of his room. The kitchen light was on, but there was no sign of Greyson.

The scream came again, and he made a panicked sound in the back of his throat as he fumbled with the front door locks before yanking it open and running the short distance to Tina’s place.