Page 44 of Unbroken

“Doesn’t surprise me,” I said under my breath but not quiet enough to escape Shelly’s ears.

“Not at all,” she agreed with a deep breath. “Anyway, he lives above the garage now. He’s made quite a cozy little space for himself out there, too.”

She again used the knife to motion to the backyard, and I gave her a wide-eyed, cautious look before I looked behind me. Through the blinds, I could see the garage that looked as I would expect any suburban garage to look. But on the side closest to the yard, there was a slim yet sturdy staircase that led to the second-floor apartment.

“So, I guess he still has his own space if he needs it,” I said, turning back to Shelly.

“He does, and…” Her words trailed off, and I sat quietly as emotion plagued her features. When she spoke again, her voice was thick. “After me being sick for years, I think it makes him feel better knowing I’m close. In case anything was to happen again…”

Tears stung the backs of my eyes, and I was so grateful things hadn’t gone the other way while I was gone. I waited for a moment to gauge her mood. She quickly cleared her throat and shook her head like that would dislodge the emotion.

Knowing she wanted to move past the heavier topics, I smiled. “I don’t know. Looks like you’re about ready to run a marathon, in my opinion.”

She tossed her head back and laughed toward the ceiling before she shot a grateful look in my direction. “I’m not sure about that, but for now, I’m just glad that my hair’s growing back and my stamina is improving.”

“That’s really great to hear.Really,” I said.

Shelly washed her hands and wiped them dry on the front of her jeans.

“Yes, now, it’s your turn to assemble.”

TWENTY

Devon

It would have beenstrange to hear Metallica blaring inside my house when I wasn’t yet home. But Blakely’s car was out front, which was all the explanation I needed.

I pulled into the same spot in the driveway I always did, and the second I cut the engine and opened the door, I heard the music from inside. I grabbed my bags from the back seat and tried to see through the windows as I pushed through the back gate.

But the blinds were tilted in such a way that I couldn’t see Blakely in the kitchen or my mom sitting on the barstool until I opened the back door.

Over the music, they somehow both heard the door open.

The smile my mom was already wearing widened, but Blakely’s went hesitant. I hated that that was her reaction to me. I missed that smile, and after all that time, I would have done anything to see it again.

“You’re home just in time,” my mom hollered over the music. Behind her, Blakely fumbled for the speaker and quickly hit the button to turn the volume down several times.

“In time for what?”

“Veggie lasagna. Blakely was just cleaning up, but it should be ready soon.” She turned and squinted at the oven. “In ten minutes, actually.”

Blakely put her head down and went back to the dishes she’d been cleaning before I interrupted. I stepped inside and set the groceries and flowers I’d bought on the kitchen table.

“Ooh,” Mom said. “For Piper? It’s sweet you’re doing something for Valentine’s Day. Are you going to see her later?”

I nodded, and my mom gave me a look that told me in no uncertain terms that a longer answer was all that would appease her.

I glanced past her at Blakely. Her hands were still in the sink, washing the dishes, but from beneath her dark lashes, she was watching me. The words suddenly felt heavy on my tongue.

Pushing through the uncomfortable sensation, I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’m seeing her later. She works tonight, so I’m going to stop by the hospital.”

Piper was an ER nurse at a hospital downtown, which meant we had to improvise for Valentine’s Day. She was busy saving lives, so I didn’t stop by often, but I figured dropping off flowers and chocolate wouldn’t disturb her too much.

Mom nodded and turned to Blakley. “Blakely, doyouhave a valentine this year?”

My keys fell from my hand and clattered loudly onto the kitchen table. Both of them looked at me, and I quickly pretended like it wasn’t directly related to the question she’d just asked.

I didn’t want to be present for her answer, but I also couldn’t make myself walk away. It had been my every intention to stop in, say a quick hello, and then go back up to my room to shower and get ready. But my legs wouldn’t let me walk back out the door.

---