Page 37 of Heart Strings

Connor

As I push open the door to The Sugar Drop, the familiar jingle of the bell doesn’t lift my spirits the way it usually does. The news that the vandals had a key to Gracie’s bookstore keeps replaying in my mind, twisting my guts with worry. Who’s targeting her, and why?

“Hey, Soph,” I call out as I approach the counter and Sophie’s face lights up.

“Hey yourself, Rockstar. Can I get you your usual to go?”

“Yes, please, but Gracie could use a bit of cheering up,” I say as I eye her display. “Maybe throw in a few of those scones she likes and some eclairs? You know how she gets when she’s stressed and I’ll be the unlucky one who gets the brunt of it.”

Sophie chuckles and flashes me a sympathetic smile as she starts prepping the order. “Back in a jiff,” she says before she walks to the back.

I’m about to pull out my phone to see if my PR team has responded yet, when the door opens again and a figure I haven’t seen in too long, steps inside. My heart literally falls into my fucking stomach when I realize who it is.

Ty.

He looks different—haggard with bags under his eyes, like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Our eyes meet, and there’s a moment of hesitation from both of us before I decide to break the ice.

“Ty?” I manage, my voice tight with surprise and a flood of old feelings.

“Con,” His voice is rough, like he hasn’t spoken in days. He approaches slowly, uncertainty in his step. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Me neither,” I reply, still processing his sudden appearance. We stand awkwardly for a moment before I extend a hand, an olive branch to bridge the distance the last few weeks and misunderstandings have built. He takes it, his grip firm but shaky.

“How have you been, man?” I ask, the concern genuine. I’ve missed him more than I’ve let myself admit. I should have bridged this gap a lot sooner and not left it to fester.

“It’s been rough,” he confesses, glancing away. “After everything, I... I needed to… to face things.”

I nod, understanding more than he knows. “What are you doing back here, though? Thought you said it would be a cold day in hell before you came back to this town,” I ask, my voice low, cautious.

He chuckles sadly. “I was actually just passing through and needed a coffee. But as I said, I needed…” He trails off and rubs the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at me. “Heard about what happened to Gracie’s store. That’s rough, man.”

“Yeah, it’s a mess,” I reply, watching him carefully. Despite everything, the sight of him so visibly broken tugs at something inside me. This is my best friend, my bandmate, and someone I trusted. It’s hard to just turn those feelings off, even now.

We stand there awkwardly until I break the silence. “Listen, Ty, I’m heading back to the cabin. Gracie’s there. You should come. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

His eyes flick to mine, surprise evident. After a moment, he nods. “Are you su—“ he cuts himself off before scoffing incredulously. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.”

As we’re talking, Sophie returns with my order, her steps faltering slightly when she notices Ty. Her recovery is quick, but not quick enough to hide her initial reaction from me. It’s always been a mystery, the tension between those two whenever Ty’s name comes up. Now seeing them together, it clicks—there’s history here, and not the simple kind.

“Hey,” Ty says sheepishly, and I have to make sure my jaw isn’t on the floor because Ty and Sheepish don’t add up.

“Everything okay, Soph?” I ask, taking the drinks from her as she regains her composure and starts working on boxing the pastries.

“Yeah, all good. Just wasn’t expecting to see... Ty.” She gives him a nod, her smile a bit too tight.

I decide to leave it at that and pay for everything before I turn to Ty, motioning toward the door.

“Let’s head out. Gracie will be glad to see you.” Even as I say it, I’m not sure it’s entirely true, but it feels like the right thing to do. Whatever happened, Ty doesn’t need to feel more separated from his friends.

“I’m staying at Rosie’s bed-and-breakfast, so I walked over. Mind if I ride with you?” he asks, and I don’t bother to remind him that he told me he’s passing through. Why would he lie about being back here?

“Sure, man,” I concede, but I still find it all strange.

As we climb into my truck, the air between Ty and me is thick with discomfort. I start the engine, and we pull away from The Sugar Drop, the familiar hum of the vehicle filling the silence as we navigate the streets.

Ty stares out the window, his eyes distant, and I wonder how much to say. The easy camaraderie we once shared feels strained now, the space filled with the weight of his ordeal and my role in his exile.

“Where have you gone since the last gig?” I ask, keeping my tone light, trying to bridge the gap.

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