Page 43 of Broken Hearts

My emotions are an absolute mess, and all I want to do is cry myself to sleep. I’m overwhelmed and lost, and I hate that Nate and I argued.

“I don’t want to be a tourist. I shouldn’t be a tourist,” I say, my words shaky, the threat of tears about to spill over. “I should have tried harder.”

And that’s all it takes before I’m full-blown sobbing.

Without missing a beat, without any animosity, without the anger from last night, Nate says, “C’mere, Sage.” And I go to him.

Falling into his open arms, he wraps them around me, holding me tight as I cry into his T-shirt.

I sink to the floor,holding her close as she cries in my arms. She looks hungover and angry and upset and just fucking broken. And seeing her like this cracks something open inside my chest.

I fucking hate how I spoke to her last night. Hate that our fight is the reason she’s like this now. It was my fault for saying all those awful things to her, for just being the way I am. A fucked up mess. But pushing people away is my default reaction. Everyone who tries to help or acts like they care; I push them away. Sometimes I wonder if the only reason I am where I am today is because Mitch never took no for an answer, never stopped coming back no matter how much of an asshole I was to him.

After Sage ran off last night, I spent the night sitting on my porch waiting for her to come back, knowing I needed to apologize. When Eddie called, asking me to come get her, the relief I felt was overwhelming.

And unexpected.

“It’s okay, Sage,” I whisper, my hand rubbing slow circles on her back.

She lets out another sob, shaking her head against my chest. “It’s not okay,” she cries. “I hate this. Hate that I fucked everything up.”

I blow out a breath, my head falling back against the wall. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Deep down, Mitch knew you loved him.”

I really have no clue considering that in all the time I knew Mitch, I didn’t even know he had a daughter. But I do know Mitch, and I know what kind of guy he was. I mean, he never gave up on me and I know that as much as he and Sage didn’t seem to talk, I know that didn’t mean he didn’t love her. That’s not who he was.

She sniffs, scrubbing her face with both hands. “I wasn’t just talking about Mitch,” she whispers.

My eyes close as I inhale deeply, letting the breath out slowly. I press a kiss to her temple. “Why don’t you take a shower?” I tell her, ignoring her last comment. “I’ll make you some tea.”

She nods, pulling herself from my arms as she swipes at the tears on her cheeks. As we both stand, she glances at me over her shoulder. “Why are you…” She trails off, and I don’t know if that’s because she’s unsure what to ask or she knows but isn’t sure she should ask it.

“Take a shower, you’ll feel better,” I say before turning and walking out of the bathroom.

While Sage showers, I walk into the kitchen. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I fire off a quick text to Alana.

Me: Gotta take care of some stuff. Can you look after the shop?

Alana: Yeah, sure thing. Everything ok?

I don’t answer her, instead setting my phone down on the counter as I fill the kettle and get two mugs out. I can hear the shower running, the sound filling the quiet apartment and reminding me again of Sage. Of her in there naked.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, moving to the glass doors that lead onto the deck. Opening them fully, I let the sound of the ocean now fill the apartment, desperately needing to scrub those images from my brain.

Doesn’t matter that we fought last night. Doesn’t matter that Sage probably now wants nothing to do with me.

None of it matters because I still want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone.

And it both scares and confuses the shit out of me.

Why the fuck do I want her? Why do I want someone who is literally going to pull my life apart? Not just because she’s leaving, but because she’s going to sell the shop and take away everything I’ve ever cared about.

It’s because she actually cares about you.

The thought pops into my head without warning, and as I head back to the kitchen to make the tea, I’m hit with a weird sense of déjà vu. Of memories of a man who also cared about me. Cared enough to take me in and give me a job and a place to live, even as I raged against it all.

Didn’t matter how many times I pushed Mitch away or told him to go fuck himself, he was always there, waiting for me to get over myself.

I hear the sound of the bathroom door opening and when I turn, I see Sage walk out, her hair wet and a towel wrapped around her body. She glances at me, offering me a quick smile before she grabs some clothes and disappears back into the bathroom. I finish making the tea before taking both cups into the living area, collapsing onto the couch I spent the night sleeping on as I wait for her.

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