Page 5 of Broken Halo

I’ve wondered what horrors she lived through, but never got an answer because that was my last conversation with Faye Barrett.

I loved her.

I loved her so much I came here today to say goodbye, even knowing I’d see the man who haunts my heart.

During the service, I tucked myself away in the back of the little church. It was easy to ignore him then. Now, not so much, but being here to say goodbye to Faye is worth it.

Ring out the welcome and swing open the gates.

Trig shifts again. It’s easy to sense. I hate that I’m still attuned to his every movement after all these years.

Those who went before her are waiting.

Fuck. I bite the inside of my lip so hard, I taste copper.

One more soldier enters our Kingdom.

I thought I could do this. After all that happened with Robert, I thought I was at a point in my life that I could handle anything.

Her trials are past.

Trig slips his hands into his pockets.

He’s nothing like he used to be, outfitted in a custom-tailored black suit—hiding the wild side I fell so hard for when I was still a girl. My insides twist and feelings I’ve worked hard to bury begin to float to the surface only to snake around my neck.

I fight for my breath.

Shit. I was wrong.

It doesn’t matter what I’ve lived through, being this close to him is still painful.

And they sing “Amazing Grace.”

I can’t help myself. I barely shift my head and slide my eyes as far as they’ll allow behind my shades only to find his icy blue ones set on me.

Ring out the welcome.

Not looking away, he clears his throat—deep and guttural. That shouldn’t send a shiver down my spine, but it does.

Dammit.

She’s home at last. Amen.

“Amen.” I utter the word, echoing the pastor’s as I make eye contact for the first time in a decade with the man I didn’t think I could live without.

Trig is forced to look away when someone steps between us to offer their condolences.

This is my chance and I need to take it like I need my next breath. I’ve got to get the hell out of here. I hate funerals. First, Patrick and now Faye.

Robert’s parents had a service for him. I wanted nothing to do with it. The sack of shit cheated on me, tried to frame my sister for insider trading, and would’ve killed both of us had my sister’s now-fiancé, Eli, not put a bullet through his head first. He didn’t deserve to be remembered, let alone honored. I haven’t uttered this aloud—not even to Jen—but I was happy to see Robert lying dead on the cold, hard floor of my studio.

How many times over can one person be a mistake? I hate myself for regretting the day someone introduced me to Robert backstage when I was performing on Broadway because, without him, I wouldn’t have my son, and Griffin is my whole world.

These are the things that keep me up at night.

Regrets … guilt … guilt for having regrets. It’s a vicious cycle.

I didn’t think my heart could be hardened any more than the day I internally celebrated the death of my husband. There are moments it rattles around in my chest like a lonely stone. I think Faye saw it. She encouraged me to find happiness even though I never mentioned how miserable I was. Every time I would visit, she turned the focus on me and I took it all.

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