Page 7 of Broken Hearts

Without giving it a second thought, I blurt out the question, the words leaving my mouth before I have time to filter them. “Is Mitch your dad? Is my dad…”

“Oh no, no,” Alana immediately replies, shaking her head. “Nate and I have worked for Mitch since we were sixteen. He’s just…well, kinda like a dad, but notourdad.”

“Not that you have any right to be pissed if he were our dad,” Nate jumps in. “Not like you cared about him at all.”

We all fall silent, smiles dropping from our faces as Alana whips around to glare at Nate. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she whisper-shouts, grabbing him by his wrist and yanking him into the small storeroom we walked through earlier.

It’s not like the shop is very big. It’s maybe the size of my apartment in New York with half of it being used as storage. I can hear every word that is being said, and I can’t help but think I should just leave. Between the two of them, Alana is trying so hard to make me feel welcome, while Nate is doing everything he can to get me to leave.

The bad news for Alana is that Nate is winning. This is the last place I want to be. I’m embarrassed that I showed up, embarrassed that I never had a relationship with my dad, embarrassed that I can’t even say I know any of his friends or anything about his life.

I wander around a little, trying to convince myself to stay, but catching every word of the conversation behind the thin piece of material that blocks the shop from the storeroom.

“I can’t even believe you called her,” Nate hisses, letting out a hard scoff.

“You need to knock this shit off. Mitch would have hated to see you treat her this way and you know that.”

“That’s low, Alana. Don’t use Mitch against me. She’s a fucking stranger,” Nate replies, anger in his words. He’s hurting too, just like Alana, but he sure as hell is manifesting it into hurting me.

“Listen, can you please just be nice to her?”

“No,” Nate immediately barks, and I hear what sounds like a smack. “Okay, okay, shit, Alana, you didn’t have to hit me.”

“Please, I swatted your arm, you baby,” Alana says, laughing a little. “You always overreact to everything.”

The two emerge from the back, and I try to pretend like I didn’t hear every word of it, even the part where Nate called me ‘a fucking stranger’, and nothing about that makes me feel any better.

“Where are you staying?” Alana now asks, her perfect smile on display.

“I was just planning to find a hotel near the shop,” I say, realizing that’s going to be a little difficult since the shop is on a part of the island that isn’t nearly as built-up as other areas.

Nate lets out a low laugh, looking over at me, he says, “Good luck with that. There’s nothing available. You didn’t think to make a reservation before you came?”

“I didn’t because I was a little caught off guard,” I reply, trying to keep my anger from bubbling to the surface.

“Yeah, you weren’t the only one,” he mutters, tugging a hand through his disheveled brown hair. The conversation with Alana didn’t make a damn bit of difference to his attitude.

“Then you should stay here,” Alana jumps in, motioning to the ceiling. “Mitch’s apartment is above the shop.”

“What the fuck?” Nate suddenly blurts out, and both Alana and I whip around to look at him. “Sorry, I guess I said that out loud. You’re more than welcome to stay here,” Nate now says, gritting his teeth as he forces himself to say the words.

“I don’t want to impose,” I say softly, pulling my phone from my purse. “I can look for something. Maybe a rental or a room somewhere. I’m sure you don’t really have the space for me…” I trail off, looking up at the ceiling, knowing the apartment is about as big as the store. I remember it being small when I visited, but I’m sure it will feel even smaller now.

“Oh, Nate and I don’t live here. We don’t even live together. I wouldn’t want to spend any more time with him than I have to,” Alana jokes, throwing her arms around his neck playfully. “I live a few blocks away with some friends, and Nate lives, um, Nate lives out back in the guesthouse.”

She says this like she knows I’m going to cringe, but what other option do I have? I’m in a place where hotels book up months in advance, and on a part of the island that isn’t really interested in having tourists. It’s pretty remote in the grand scheme of things. It’s the kind of town that tourists visit to learn how to surf or to have lunch. It’s not the kind that has luxury high-rise hotels.

“As long as it’s okay,” I now say, looking directly at Nate. He’s the one who has the issue with me being here.

Silence falls between us, and Alana gives Nate’s side a hearty jab with her elbow, and she widens her eyes at him.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Great!”Alana says, her smile wide like this is the greatest thing ever. Why the fuck she’s being so nice to this girl is beyond me. “Where’s your stuff? Do you have a suitcase?”

“It’s in the car,” Sage replies quietly. “I have a rental,” she adds, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to the front of the shop.

“Keys,” Alana now states, palm out toward Sage. I watch as Sage hands them over, her eyes wide as though she isn’t sure why she’s doing this. “Nate, go and get her bag. I’ll take Sage upstairs and show her around,” she says, turning and throwing the keys at me.

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