Page 73 of The Two Halves of My Heart

“Did you have a fight?”

I nodded but gave Vivien an innocent smile.

“Couples fight all the time. And we both know how he can be.”

“You mean, angry?” I asked, not entirely sure which trait she was referring to. With Maddison, it could have been many.

“Well, yes. But I meant that moody nature he’s always had. Even as a small child, he wanted everything on his own terms. He had to be the best, the bravest, the most popular. It caused problems between both of them so many times.” She shook her head as if she was still reprimanding them.

I remembered that. They would fight over anything and everything, but then be the best of friends in the blink of an eye. “I remember.” The problem was, I wanted that back: the easy, carefree friendship that sustained me—us—for years.

“He’d always be so single-minded.” She drifted off again as if she was remembering something. A tear shimmered in her eye, but she turned away to hide it from view before it had a chance to fall.

“Silly me, getting all nostalgic like that.” She cleared the tea mugs to the sink.

“Is everything okay?” This wasn’t the Vivien I used to know.

“Yes, it’s nothing. Back to you and Maddison. I’m sure he’ll work this out. You know how much he adores you.” Vivien looked at me with a hopeful smile.

“I know he does.” I stopped short of filling in the rest of my concerns. If this were just about how much we loved each other, things wouldn’t be a problem.

“There’s a but coming, isn’t there.” I worried that she’d see right through me to the doubts I had if I started opening up, so I told a little white lie.

“I’m just worried about him. It’s the second time he’s done this.”

“I’ll reach out to him. Tell him he needs to watch how he’s treating you.”

“No, no, I don’t need you to do that. That’s not what I wanted when I came here. But I thought you should know, and that maybe you could help?” I stood and inched myself to the door. The atmosphere had grown awkward like we were both skirting around the issue at hand.

Before I made it to the door, Vivien grabbed me and pulled me to her, wrapping me in her arms.

“Oh, Grace. I’m so sorry he’s putting you through this. Don’t give up on him. He loves you so very deeply. If anyone can make him see sense, it’s you.”

“See sense?” I asked, pulling back from her embrace. Did she know what Maddison had got mixed up in?

“Treating you right, behaving, the usual Maddison things. That’s all I meant.” She tried to cover up her slip, but it was too late.

“Do you know what he’s involved in?” My lips quivered around the words like if I admitted them, they’d suddenly mean more.

“We have had our suspicions. He won’t admit anything to us outright, and he’s not been here in weeks. But with what you’ve said, and what he’s like in general, we can put the pieces together.”

“What should I do?” I asked, suddenly finding the question that I’d wanted help to answer all along.

“Oh, darling. I can’t answer that for you.” She took my hands in hers. “And I wish I could say for you to follow your heart, but I know that’s never been easy.” Vivien didn’t need to mention his name. I knew who she meant. “All I’ll ever ask is for you to try. It’s never been easy for him, and you’ve been such an important part of his life. But he has a stubborn streak that’ll be the death of him if he’s not careful.”

“You’ll let me know if you see him? Tell him I’m worried?”

“Of course. Have you seen your mother? I know she’s been missing you.”

“I’ve been so bad at staying in touch.” It wasn’t just friends I’d neglected in my sorrowful moods.

“Don’t you worry about that right now. One thing at a time.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

Sadness followed me on the short and oh-so-familiar walk over the green to the house I called home. That short distance was enough time for a mass of storm clouds to brew inside my chest. Fuelled by doubt and confusion, heartache and fear, I was ready to burst by the time I walked up to the door.

I knocked on the door to my old home. It was ridiculous—I still had my key, but over the past few months, I’d barely seen Mum. She opened the door and looked at me with her warm and caring eyes, and the storm broke. I broke.

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