Page 110 of Fragile Heart

Camden hums. “Like Daddy’s tattoos? He says he can’t get rid of them, either.”

I squeeze his hand and start across the road. “Just like that.”

“So why were you married?” he asks.

The thrift store is unassuming, a simple warehouse with a small sign labeling it. It’s more rundown than the Artisan Square, but there’s still a good amount of foot traffic along the front. I guide Camden around the side, following the signs for the donations drop-off.

“Well,” I say slowly, “he was a Beta, so I couldn’t bond with him. And I really loved him at the time, so it felt like the right decision to make.”

“Do you love Papa and Daddy?” he asks.

I swallow the lump in my throat and force my breathing steady. The employee walks up to us before I can figure out just exactly how much I want to admit to the four-year-old son of my scent matches. I give the employee the box, and he flips it open. His eyebrow ticks up and some of the color drains away from his face.

“Do you need a receipt, ma’am?” he asks cautiously.

I shake my head. “No, that’s all right.”

He tucks the box under an arm and nods. “Have a good day, ma’am.”

Camden waves as we leave. He’s quiet as we retrace our steps and start toward the little bakery. Olivia stands outside, a small drink in her hand and a new bag over her shoulder. She waves when she notices us heading toward her.

“Mommy Bri?” Camden asks once we’ve rejoined Olivia. “Do you love my dads?”

I twist my hand into my hair and breathe deeply. Olivia raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. I pin her with a look. She smiles and shrugs.

As I open the door, I tell Camden, “I do, sweetie.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

BRIELLE

“It was looking hopeful yesterday, but the winds picked up again overnight.”

Caleb sighs and runs his hand through his hair. I set the phone against my empty mug and curl up in the corner of the living room’s loveseat, burying my face in the hoodie I stole out of Caleb’s hamper this morning. It’s still mostly covered in his scent, and I breathe it in, letting it soothe the ache of his absence.

The small finches chirp just outside the windows, and I take them in for a minute. The sun is already high, casting shadows on the front yard. Caleb had managed to find a couple minutes to call me during his lunch break between flights. I focus on him again.

“So you’re not going to make it home tonight?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m hoping for the middle of the week at this point. If the winds can stay lower, there’s a chance of tomorrow or Monday. But…”

He trails off, and I offer a small smile. “I get it.”

I can’t quite keep the unhappiness out of my voice, though.

His being gone wasn’t as bothersome when we weren’t living together. Now it’s almost like I can live and breathe andfeelhis absence. Maybe I should spend the day at Emily’s guest house where I still have my nest set up.

He frowns and murmurs an apology. “I’d hoped to be there yesterday. Did everything… end up all right?”

Between me and Ethan. Between me and the family. Between me and Camden.

Because yesterday had been the anniversary of Kayla’s suicide.

Ethan had woken up before me and had Camden halfway out the door for a day of hiking by the time I’d made a cup of coffee. I hadn’t been invited. Message received.

I’d spent way too long trying to convince myself I wasn’t hurt that he had wanted to avoid me.

“I took a drive up to Jackson,” I offer, shoving the awful feelings away before they show on my face. “Ethan didn’t seem to want any company.”

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