Page 43 of Shattered

Never in a million years did I ever expect to open my front door and find her standing there in the flesh, looking fucking breathtaking.

What are you supposed to say to someone whose heart you broke and whom you haven’t seen in four years because they cut you off? Not to mention having to look her in the eyes after what I did after seeing her Instagram picture.

I’m not even sure why she turned up in the first place since she never said it, but then she offered to put the past behind us and be friends as if it was no big deal. For real? I was pissed.

I tried apologizing amidst my life falling apart. I know I fucked up, but I tried explaining and begging, and I was tossed aside and left to go through everything on my own. She doesn’t understand that it was losing her along with everyone else in my life all at once that made me this way. It changed me.

And then she just wanted to act like nothing happened? I huff at the thought.

Still, my insides twist and turn, making me feel like a piece of shit, because I didn’t like treating her that way. I didn’t like watching her face fall when I rejected her offer for a fresh start. I can’t imagine what it took for her to turn up like that after so long, but she said it was a lot. Then I was an asshole to her.

The second I saw her, conversations from our past came rushing back, and I was flooded with both good and bad memories. My heart had hammered in my chest the whole time she was in my space, and it was only after she left that I felt like I could take in a full breath.

Shaking my head, I try to rid myself of thoughts of her, but I end up shoving the dolly a little too forcefully over some extension cords on the ground. It causes Harley to grip the drywall harder, so it doesn’t tip over, and then raise an eyebrow at me. “You’ve been a grumpy fuck the last couple of days.”

Harley is the closest person I have to a friend, having worked with me from the beginning, and he’s also been a witness to some of my darker days. He’s just as much of a loner as I am and hardly has a life outside of work, but he’s met Adi, and I’ve been to his house for a BBQ once. Harley even once hinted at me dating his nineteen-year-old daughter, Isla, instead of the losers she keeps choosing. But he gave up on that quickly when he saw just how much we weren’t interested in each other.

“Sorry,” I mumble as we lift some of the stack off the dolly and settle it onto a pile in one of the rooms. The strong scent of cut wood surrounds us, and I almost find it a comfort.

He grunts, shrugging. “You’re allowed to be. But when you get extra quiet and angry, I get worried. Want to talk about it?”

Harley looks like a scary guy to most people, with his constant scowl, unkempt beard, and intimidating size, but he’s actually a kind soul who likes to talk things out. It’s probably because he had to raise his daughter by himself since his wife died when Isla was only four years old. At thirty-nine, he seems too young to have a daughter that age, but he was actually a year older than I was when Adi was born.

“Just a visit from someone I used to know,” I tell him with a shake of my head.

“Ah.”

The obnoxious chime of his phone cuts off his next words, stopping him from further probing. Thank goodness, because I don’t particularly feel like talking about it, either. He’d likely tell me that I was a dick and should apologize—and he wouldn’t be wrong.

Harley runs a hand over his face and lets out a garbled groan. “For fuck’s sake.” Then, looking up at me, he simply says, “Isla.”

I should have known from the groan alone. His daughter is the only one who seems to evoke that sort of response from him. “Everything okay?”

“She drove into the bushes in front of our house. Again. I just replanted them.”

We lift the rest of the drywall and place it on top of the stack. “How many times is that now?”

“At this place? Three times.”

Indecipherable grumbling follows him as he turns and stomps out of the room, typing aggressively on his phone, and I’m left wondering if that’s something I’ll have to deal with when Adi is older.

I start trailing out after him, ready to grab another load, but I pause when, this time, it’s my phone that dings, but with a few messages all at once. Leaning against the doorway, I pull it out of my pocket.

Navi: Hey. An important meeting I had scheduled this afternoon has been delayed by about an hour, which means I won’t be able to pick Adi up on time.

Navi: Is there ANY chance at all you can leave work a little early to pick him up, and then just hang with him for a while until I’m finished?

Navi: My mom is sick. Otherwise, I’d ask her.

Is there a chance? Hell, I’ll make one. My mood is already starting to improve at just the thought of getting to spend a little more time with my boy, so of course, I’ll jump at the chance.

I check my watch. If we get cracking on this drywall, we should get it all done before I take off. The weather doesn’t seem the best for hitting up a playground, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe I should just suck it up and go see Mom and Dad.

Just as I start typing out a reply, the sound of heavy rain bucketing down begins to drown out all the sounds of drills, nail guns, and hammers that were present a moment ago. It looks like we’ll be leaving early, anyway.

Me: I’ll pick him up.

Before I’m able to read her response, there’s a slap on my back as someone passes me in the hall. “You and Harley going to Vaughn’s birthday party tonight?” Shane, one of the electricians who always seems to end up working on the same buildings as us, turns around and brings a hand up to his chest, feigning a look of concern. “That’s right. I forgot you’re both old fogeys.”

---