Page 20 of Heart Strings

Chapter 14

Connor

The silence after I stop playing feels louder than any music I’ve ever made. It’s like the cabin itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what I’ll do next. The truth is, I’m not sure. I feel like every step I take with Gracie is the wrong one, like I’m constantly on the verge of messing up something precious.

The look in her eyes earlier, that questioning, searching look, it’s haunted me. What am I supposed to say to that? What am I supposed to do?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I didn’t intend on playing that song, and I sure as fuck didn’t anticipate the horrified way she would look at me as I sang it. Shit, I need to fix this before it gets out of hand, but what exactly do I say to her?

Sorry for being in love with you?

I stop pacing, my eyes wide as that thought runs through my head. No. no fucking way. I am not in love with Gracie. This is just my hurt speaking, my need to connect to someone after being with a bitch for so many months.

That’s all it is. That’s all it… can be.

Swallowing my pride, I walk toward Gracie’s bedroom with my heart in my fucking throat and knock on her door. “Gracie? Can we talk?”

I hear shuffling inside the bedroom, then Gracie’s small voice answers me with a, “Yeah, come on in,” and without a moment’s hesitation and before I lose my fucking nerve, I open the door.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed looking at her hands in her lap. So I walk over to her, my steps hesitant, and sink down onto my haunches in front of her. The words I had planned to say evaporate, leaving me with a mind swirling with thoughts and a mouth that can’t seem to articulate any of them properly.

“Gracie, I—“ I start, my voice faltering. “I feel like I’m always messing things up with you. Always stepping out of line when it’s not my intention at all. From showing up drunk at your place and nearly getting into a fight with someone for even looking at you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She looks at me, her brow furrowing. “What exactly are you apologizing for, Connor?” she asks, her voice gentle, coaxing the words out of me.

I let out a heavy sigh, my gaze dropping to her hands. “I… I’m not entirely sure. Maybe for this... tension between us. For putting you in a position where you have to question what we are to each other.”

Gracie reaches out, her hand finding mine and laces it with mine, a gesture so familiar yet now loaded with so much more meaning. “You haven’t put me in any position, Con—“

“Yeah, I have,” I interject and shake my head. “I come back into town with all this bullshit and saying things that…” I trail off. “It’s just... I don’t want to ruin what we have. You mean everything to me, Gracie. Losing you would break me.”

Gracie squeezes my hand, her own smile sad but genuine. “Connor, you could never lose me. We’ve been through too much together. But…” she bites her bottom lip, and it feels like she’s about to break me with her words. “I have to admit that you’re confusing me right now.”

And there goes my fucking heart.

“Do you want me to give you space? I can stay away if that would make things easier?” I offer, hoping it will help, but when she nods, it feels like a vise around my lungs.

“I think so… just a day or two?” Gracie’s nod and the soft confirmation of needing space feels like a punch in the gut.

This isn’t how I imagined any of this going down when I got back into town. Maybe I was naïve thinking we could just slip back into our old easy friendship after everything that’s been stirred up between us.

“Yeah, okay. A couple of days,” I agree, trying to keep my voice steady. The tightness in my chest is unbearable, but I force myself to smile, to show her that I’m okay with it—even though it feels like I’m agreeing to pull my own heart out.

I don’t wanna lose Gracie as a friend and now it feels like that’s happening.

I stand up slowly, feeling every inch the fool. Fool for not seeing sooner how deep my feelings ran, fool for letting them spill over through a song, of all things. “I’ll take you home,” I say, more for something to do than anything else.

Gracie looks up at me, her eyes filled with something I can’t quite read. “Thanks, Connor.”

A few minutes later, the drive to her place is quiet, the suffocating kind. I keep my eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel, while every part of me wants to pull over, turn to her, and demand we just talk it out, hash it out, make it make sense. But that wouldn’t be fair to her—not when she’s asked for space. All the apologies in the world won’t change the confusion I’ve caused.

The goodbye is awkward—a far cry from our usual easy hugs. “See you in a few days,” I say as she gets out of the truck.

“Thanks for the ride, Connor,” she replies, offering me a small, sad smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

As I watch her walk away, my heart sinks. Turning back towards my cabin, the drive feels longer than it ever has, and as soon as I’m back, I throw myself onto the couch, the earlier events replaying in my head like some cruel loop.

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