Page 90 of The Two Halves of My Heart

Chapter 28

Grace 21 Years Old

Sleep was my silent enemy for the rest of the night. Every time I closed my eyes and began to drift off, my mind played a repeat of some of the more hurtful words that Maddison had chucked at me, or I had visions of Maddison all bloodied and broken.

Bob—my usual constant companion—even gave up on my restlessness and decided to make his bed on the chair instead. By dawn, I was wide awake, and no amount of convincing my body I needed the sleep could undo the situation.

Coffee. The first solution my mind could reach for right then.

I sat and nursed my warm mug and looked out the back window into the garden. The light seemed so pure this early like the possibilities of the day were still being decided.

Memories ghosted over my field of vision, of me playing outside when I was young, but I was rarely alone. Maddison and Oliver were always by my side. Shadows that ensured I was never on my own and had a friend by my side. My world was so full back then, and I had everything I could possibly need. But then, somewhere, somehow, it had grown narrow and complicated and small.

“Hey, you’re up early.”

My grip on the mug of now cold coffee slipped and dropped to the ground, shattering the quiet and the rest of my nerves.

“Oh, crap,” I jumped back from the spill of liquid and ceramic.

“Sorry I startled you, honey,” Mum said from behind me.

“It’s fine. I was miles away.” I stepped away from the mess and grabbed a paper towel.

“Yeah, I saw that. Anything on your mind?”

There was plenty on my mind. “Just memories. Thinking about how things were.”

“You sound like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and you know, nothing good ever comes from missing the past.”

She set about making another cup of coffee, but her words had given me a jolt. I’d spent so much of my life wishing the time away and back to when we were little. Was that part of the reason I was never happy—because I’d never given anything a chance?

“Here. You look like you could do with the cup.” She handed me a new mug with steam swirling from the surface. Anything planned for today?”

“Lunch shift,” I answered on autopilot as I was still processing the epiphany of sorts. The distraction of work was sorely needed. I’d go insane if I were stuck at home all day.

“Well, I hope you perk up. And remember, stop moping.”

The day dragged, and by the evening, I was mentally and physically exhausted from the lack of sleep and my anxious mind. My phone had been silent all day. No messages from Maddison, and nothing from Leo. Even with all the words from last night, there was still a grain of hope left that perhaps… maybe… our late-night conversation would have prompted a change of heart from him. But I should have known better than that.

Lying and staring up at the ceiling, I felt like I’d failed. Maybe I compared everything to the past and had never given what I had now a real chance to survive? That was one thought, but it didn’t account for the repeat of Mum’s life. Somehow, I was watching the same events happen to me that, and despite only knowing of my mother and father’s journey for a short time, I was rehashing.

And that was cold comfort when falling to sleep. The question of fate, and if we’re destined to follow a path already set for us, sparked dangerous stories in my mind.

“Oliver!” My cry died in the early morning quiet of my room, and the instant I tried to grab hold of the dream, it vanished like wisps of smoke in the air. But as I came around to full consciousness, I realised I didn’t need to remember the details.

All I needed was his name.

Why hadn’t I thought of this before? It was obvious, and I scolded myself for having a mental block on anything to do with Oliver. Maddison had told me last night, but I was just too upset to interpret his words. He’d felt abandoned by Oliver as well. If he wouldn’t listen to me, perhaps he’d listen to Oliver. Although, like me, Oliver might not be on the top of Maddison’s ‘to see’ list—but I had to try.

I scrambled for my phone but stopped dead as I held it in my hand. I’d not had his number for years. I couldn’t contact him. The hope that had ignited; disintegrated as soon as realisation broke. But I did have a way to get to him. I dug into the bottom of my wardrobe where I’d stashed the box of letters; happy to push them and the questions they’d awoken deep into the recesses of the cupboard and my heart. He’d put his address on the last few, in the hope of a reply. Well, now I’d give him one.

I scribbled a note to Mum, hoping she didn’t mind that I’d be borrowing her car for the day. After all, a spontaneous trip to London was likely to be on her ‘no’ list, especially given that’s where she’d fled.

But this wasn’t something I could shy away from, or risk her barring me from leaving the house. And I knew she’d try that.

The sat nav pinged on as I started the engine, and I programmed the address, hoping that it would be an easy journey. I’d never driven farther than town, and now I was embarking on a trip across the country to try and stop my ex-boyfriend from making a huge mistake.

The doubt crept into my mind the second I pulled out of the drive and turned right, listening to the robotic voice instructions.

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