Page 10 of The Wrong Heart

West shoots me a wink, pulling a reluctant smile from my lips.

“Besides,” he presses. “A break will do you good. You’re always cooped up here in this… house.”

There’s an emphasis on the wordhouse—a weighty timbre that makes my skin feel itchy. It’s my house with Charlie, yes, but it feels likehishouse, and no one understands why I chose to stay here instead of move; why I wanted to strangle myself in these dying roots when I could plant new ones.

It’s for the same reason I didn’t wash the bedsheets for months, and why I showered with his Irish Spring soap, and why I didn’t have the heart to throw away the mail that had his name on it.

It’s why I’ll never get rid of my purse—thepurse.

I’m connected to him here.

I stillfeelhim here.

And when I finally washed those sheets, when the soap ran out, and when the stacks of envelopes grew too high… I still had this house. His scent lingers on the drapes whenever a tepid breeze blows through. His fingerprints are on these walls, and his custom-built shed sits out back, filled with his tools and hardware. Our prized magnolia tree is blooming to life, bursting with pastel petals, a deceiving contrast to the ghosts that haunt me here.

I love this house.

It’s my favorite place to be, ghosts and all.

“I’ll think about it,” I respond, my tone flat and void. I’m not doing my believability any favors. “Thanks for stopping by.”

West’s defeated sigh is a prelude to the look of disappointment that I’m certain adorns his face, but I wouldn’t know, because I don’t look up from the cookies and cream cupcake batter. I keep stirring and stirring, mixing and folding, even when I sense him rummaging around the kitchen, sifting through the refrigerator, and poking inside cabinets.

A few minutes later, I hear him retreat with a hollow goodbye. “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. See you.”

When the front door closes and my brother is gone, I finally release the mixer and lift my eyes from my task. I swallow down a lump when I spot the peanut butter and banana sandwich sitting atop a paper plate, cut diagonally just how I like it, paired with a glass of cold milk.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the empty kitchen before picking the mixer back up and drowning myself in cupcake orders.

I keep working.

I keep going.

I keep myself busy to the point of exhaustion, because if I don’t burn out… I’ll burn away.

And that seems infinitely worse.

I’m just as surprised as West and his friends when I stroll into the brewery that night with Leah’s arm linked through mine. It was a last-minute decision after a black cloud decided to infiltrate me, all sharp teeth and long talons, and even reruns ofVeronica Marscouldn’t pull me out of the funk.

I definitely look the most homeless out of everyone in the bar, with my petite frame swallowed up by one of Charlie’s old hoodies and faded leggings hanging loose off my too-thin legs. I brushed my teeth, but I didn’t brush my hair, and lip gloss is the only makeup that found its way to my face.

But I’m here.

And I’m smiling.

“Ladies, grab some chairs,” one of West’s buddies hollers over to us as we saunter up to the round table, featuring my brother and his two longtime friends, Alex and Shane.

West leans back in his seat, knees spread, beer dangling between them. The smile he sends me is laced with tenderness before it transforms into something more guileful as he sets his sights on Leah. “Hey, tiger.”

“Hey,Westley.”

My best friend gives my upper arm a light pinch, then releases me to drag a chair over to the table, situating herself beside my brother.

West purses his lips at the sound of his full name as his gaze floats back to me. “I thought I told you not to bring her,” he teases.

“Yeah, that’s totally what you said.” I watch as Leah flips her shiny black hair over one shoulder and props her high heels up on West’s thigh. These two have been ready to ignite since Leah and I were in high school. I have no idea why it hasn’t happened yet. Pulling my own chair up to the table, I return the welcoming head nods given by Alex and Shane and take a seat. “Long time, no see. How are you guys?”

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