Page 61 of Fragments of You

“Like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Warmth spreads across my cheeks.

“I doubt that, but thanks.” I brush off his compliment, even though I still feel the effects of it long after he’s spoken the words. “So I just...” I lift the hammer and do a half swing, surprised by the weight of the damn thing.

“You want to be mindful of the support beams.” He steps closer, showing me the general area of where they are. “Take one of those out and the roof may very well come down on our heads.”

“Don’t hit the support beams, got it. Anything else?” I glance over to find him watching me, a small smile playing on his full lips.

“Nope. You got it.” He steps back, giving me room to swing.

Hoisting the sledgehammer up, I swing it like a baseball bat, taking out a huge chunk of plaster and drywall on my first hit.

Smiling like a fool, I swing again, the crack of the plaster so satisfying that I ache to keep going, and I do. Swing after swing, I watch the wall come down, revealing the dining room that stands on the other side. A dining room that was once only used for trash and storage. I don’t ever remember seeing so much as a chair in there, let alone an actual table. Now, the room sits eerily empty.

This is not what I had in mind when I said I needed to figure things out with Nash, but oddly, it feels like exactly what I needed. To take out my aggression. To forget about everything that’s at stake and just be in the moment.

The crack of the hammer drowns it all out. All the doubt. All the fear. All the uncertainty. It fades more with every swing. With every chunk of wall that falls at my feet. The entire experience is exhausting and yet so satisfying, that when nothing but the support beams exist, I’m already looking for the next wall to sink my hammer into.

“What’s next?” I turn to find Nash bent down next to a saw on the floor, measuring a long piece of wood.

“Well, first, we have to get the new support beam in, then we remove those.” He gestures to the only thing left standing.

“Okay, how do we put the new support beam in?”

“Well, it has to go up there.” He gestures to the ceiling above me.

“How do we get it up there?”

“We put it up there.”

“How?”

“By lifting it up there.” He chuckles at the look on my face. “Don’t worry, I hired a contractor to do that part. No way we’d be able to get it up there. I’m just getting it ready.”

“Okay, well, is there something else I can do?”

“You’re not over it yet?”

“Are you kidding? I’m just getting started.” I swing the sledgehammer back and forth at my side.

“Well, I’m planning on knocking out the wall between my old bedroom and my father’s old room.”

“Why?”

“I figured I’d rather have one big master bedroom than two small rooms.”

“But if you sell, two is more practical.”

“If I sell,” he reminds me.

I swallow hard at the way he looks at me, not sure if I want to run into his arms and beg him to never let me go again or run for the freaking hills. The intensity of his gaze terrifies me as much as it excites me, and the array of emotions is a stark contrast from one another.

“Would you stay here? I mean, if you stay in town, would you live in this house?”

“Once I rebuild most of it, maybe. The land is beautiful and it really is so peaceful out here.”

“I guess I’m surprised you’d want to... You know, after everything that happened here,” I say almost apologetically.

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