Page 120 of Fragile Heart

Melissa continues, “If I can, this is where she’s staying. If you text me when you get there, I’ll double check her location in case she decides to go somewhere else.”

I surge to my feet and pull Melissa into my arms. “Thank you,” I whisper.

She sighs. “I swear to God, Ethan, I’m not helping if there’s a next time. She’s been hurt enough.”

Her phone vibrates, and she glances at it while still stuck in my hug. She turns the screen to me, and some of the coiled worry and fear eases.

I’m staying. I’ll come back in a couple days and decide what to do then.

BRIELLE

Despite what I’d told Melissa, I’m ready to climb the walls of my hotel room by Monday morning. I grab the blue sundress that still manages to carry just a hint of Ethan’s scent, leftover from its close proximity to my heat a couple weeks ago. Mint wafts over me, nearly indiscernible. The worry eating me from the inside fades to the point I can breathe around it.

It’s ironic that it’shisscent that’s kept me the calmest the last two days.

Proof that biologically perfect has no bearing on actual reality.

My phone vibrates, the screen lighting with a message from Melissa this time.

You’re heading back tomorrow?

Yeah. Going to spend today planning and then I’ll be back tomorrow.

All right. Share your location with me if you go anywhere so I know you’re safe.

Always.

I gather up the embroidery supplies and stuff them into my bag. I stare at the suitcase I’d thrown together and then the dress. The need to keep Ethan’s scent intact on it overrides the desire to wear it. Crossing the room, I dig out the yellow sweatshirt I’d worn the day Caleb got called to the fire. I swap out the pieces, pulling on a set of black leggings that smell only of my laundry detergent and then the hoodie, letting the cinnamon wash over me until it’s all I can smell.

I bypass the hotel’s breakfast, keeping my head low and my arms crossed. It shouldn’t feel so vulnerable, walking around in such a small town, but knowing that there’s no one to save me makes anxiety tighten in my stomach. It hadn’t bothered me when I moved to Creek Falls a couple months ago—not enough for me to notice it, at least.

My phone vibrates again, and I swipe open the message without looking.

I love you, sweetheart.

It’s the fifth time he’s texted me that since Saturday night. My fingers twitch with the desire to text him back, to let him comfort me in the middle of this mess. I wouldn’t feel alone and scared in the middle of this small mountain town if I texted him back. My fingers hover over the keyboard. I close the message before I can break. Panic tries to claw its way up my throat, but I stuff it down.

I can’t have Caleb, not if Ethan doesn’t want me, too. I refuse—refuse—to be a home wrecker like that bitch. I couldn’t livewith myself if I was the cause of Camden not having access to both of his dads all the time. I breathe as deeply as I can manage, letting the cinnamon scent soothe me again.

I force a swallow to keep from crying again and push the main door open, burying my nose into the hoodie so I can’t smell any of the city. I share my location with Melissa before I forget. Jackson is quiet this early in the morning, mostly only tourists who are serious about their hiking and other outdoor sports are out.

Luckily, it’s also early enough that it’s not too warm for the hoodie, so I don’t rush the four block walk to the nearest coffee shop. Instead, I take the long route, trying to ease away the restless energy building in my bones.

It mostly works. By the time I’m standing in the small line, I don’t feel like I want to crawl out of my skin—or cry in a huddle in the corner.

My phone vibrates with a new notification. I press on the screen, and then my stomach drops out entirely. The email is innocuous, and yet it might as well be emblazoned with neon lettering.

How has it only been a weekend since I submitted the paperwork?

My hands tremble as I open the email and read through it. My mouth is dry, and I can’t quite remember how to breathe.

Of course this is the one time paperwork actually moves efficiently. God, I’m going to have find time today to go to the office and talk with the caseworker about my options.

The panic roars up again, and it takes every ounce of self-control earned from years working in corporate boardrooms to keep from dissolving into tears.

The barista offers me a smile as she calls me forward. I try to match it, but her face falls. I order a simple mocha withoutcomment and then sink into the chair in the far corner of the small cafe, keeping my back to the door and windows.

My hands still tremble as I pull out the snapdragons I’ve been working on since Faedra’s visit. They’re nearly finished now, just a few small details needed before I can decide exactly what to do with them. I start in on them, willing the monotonous work to dull out my thoughts.

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