Page 28 of All My Broken Pieces

“Wanna talk about it?” Cooper offers, pulling me from the painful thoughts.

I shrug again, staring at the corner of the room. We sit in silence until I can’t take the quiet anymore. “What do you want me to say?” I snap. “My life sucks. I miss my parents. I miss my home. I miss mylanguage.” Sighing heavily, I run a hand through my hair, wishing things were different.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve been here for several years already, that all the therapists, case workers, and judges think I should be “well adjusted” because I’m now in a “normal” homelife. I’m never going to feel at home. Not here. Not where I’m not understood on the most basic level.

“Would it help if I learned?”

The quiet question startles me. Turning my gaze to meet his honey eyes, I find something reflected back at me I didn’t think I ever would again. “What do you mean?” I look away, refusing to accept the possibility I could have a friend. That there could be someone who cares about me enough to want me happy.

“Your language. Teach me.” Cooper nudges my shoulder with his, a twinkle in his eye. Almost as if he’sexcitedto learn.

I shake my head, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Don’t pretend you care.” I mutter, resting my chin on my bent knees.

Cooper scoffs, clutching his chest with his hand. “That is offensive. Idocare.” When I don’t respond, he gently places his hand on my shoulder. “Please, give me a chance.”

Swallowing around the emotions the memory brings up, I pull out my phone, opening the contacts. My finger hovers over Cooper’s name, but I can’t bring myself to reach out to him. He’s got his own life, his own worries. He doesn’t have to add on his little sister’s bullshit, no matter how close we grew to be as kids.

An incoming text makes my decision, the expected details for the job. Clicking on the message instead, I quickly peruse the info before setting down my phone on my dresser and heading into the bathroom to get ready.

While I won’t be able to alleviate some of these feelings right now, at least I’ll have something to focus on in the meantime. Something to distract me from the aching sorrow that’s become my constant companion.

Chapter 11

Fallon

I fidget with my glasses, glancing around the crowded restaurant. A shiver runs through my body when the door opens and a cold breeze from outside blows in.

I really should have worn a jacket.

Reaching a shaky hand forward, I pick up my glass of water and take a sip. I can vaguely hear Logan saying something, but can’t bring myself to care enough to listen. My mind keeps going back to my drunken night with Arriana.

The feel of her hands on me, of her tongue licking all the right places, the sound of her groaning as she fucked me.

I shift in my seat, trying to alleviate some of the growing pressure at the memories.

“So, what do you do?” Logan’s voice filters through my mind, bringing my attention back to the present.

I’m on a date.

Right.

Clearing my throat, I tuck my hair behind my ear as I take another drink of water. “Oh, me?” I mumble, glancing up at him.

He’s an attractive man. His dark hair is trimmed short, a layer of stubble lines his jaw. Sharp cheekbones and a pair of bushy eyebrows accentuate his brown eyes.

I blink as I stare at his eyes, the color reminding me so much of someone else. Someone I shouldn’t be thinking about, but can’t seem to stop myself.

At my silence, he chuckles and nods his head. “Yes, you.” He looks around the room. “Unless there’s another gorgeous girl I was supposed to meet for dinner.” Horror overtakes his expression as he gasps, “Oh shit, youareFallon, right?” My eyes widen until a smirk covers his face.

Oh, he’s fucking with me.

Rolling my eyes, I let out a quiet laugh, twirling my water glass in my hands. “Ha ha.” I flick my eyes up to his, a smile tipping up the corners of my lips at the boyish grin on his face.

Leaning forward, Logan clasps his hands on the table. “So, tell me all aboutyou.” He insists.

The rest of the date goes…well. I hate to admit that I actually had fun once I loosened up a bit. His personality was playful and easy to get along with. We talked about everything and anything, save for the one thing my mind couldn’t stay away from. But at the end of the night when we pulled up to the condominium, my stomach dropped.

Sitting beside him, I pick at my nails. “So, um…” I mumble, trying so desperately to want this.

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