Page 40 of The Wrong Heart

“That’s not healing,” he mumbles. “That’s an excuse. That’s a justification to remain stunted and stagnant because you’re too lazy to put in the actual work to get better.”

Amelia finally flinches back, as if his words physically slapped her.

Parker rises from the chair, his gaze flicking to me, then back to Amelia. “There’s nothing beautiful about pain and suffering. Anyone who thinks otherwise never truly experienced it.”

My chest constricts with labored breaths, my throat tightening at his words. Amelia remains silent, scuffing her knee-high boots against the linoleum and avoiding my stare. “I’ll be right back,” I croak out, instinctually standing from my own seat and following Parker over to the snack table, where he’s aimlessly spinning the little carousel of coffee selections.

“That wasn’t helpful,” I say, my words sharp, but my tone gentle.

“No?” Parker uses one finger to sort through the different flavors, not bothering to look over. “I disagree.”

“It was harsh.”

His eyes finally fall on me. “Harsh or honest?”

The question gives me pause.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe some people need the kind of honesty that sucker-punches you in the gut and steals your breath. The kind that enrages you. Offends you, even.

Until you put aside your ego and trulylisten.

I nibble my lip, arms folding across my chest, our gazes locked for another beat before he pulls away and chooses a coffee flavor. “I was thinking about what you said the other day. About smiling.”

Parker wavers, then pops open the top of the Keurig. “Yeah? I bet you were thinking about how right I was.”

I’m almost certain there was a trace of levity in his tone. Something sort of …playful. But the thought alone seems preposterous, so I convince myself it was only wishful thinking. “The opposite, actually. I was coming up with a thousand different reasons to counter your theory.”

“A thousand,” he breezes. “I’ll wait.”

“But I only need one.”

Parker gives me his half-hearted attention, only a side-eye, but I know he’s all ears. He leans forward on his palms, waiting for the coffee to dispense.

Waiting for my reason.

“You noticed it,” I finally say.

Parker’s shoulders tense, his head bowing briefly as his jaw clenches, then he lifts his gaze back to mine. I have his full attention now. “What does that mean?”

“You noticed my smile,” I explain. “And you don’t notice much of anything. You said I smiled too much—you twisted it into something negative, but you only did that because you didn’tlikethat you noticed it. It made you uncomfortable. You hated the way it pierced through your heavy armor and warmed you up inside.” My words and thoughts spill out completely unrestrained, and I only stop to take a quick breath. “It means I’ll give away all the smiles. I’ll smile at strangers on the street, at people I don’t even like. I’ll smile all damn day, even if only one person notices, because maybe it’s all they need to feel better that day. Maybe it’s what they secretly crave. Maybe it will givethema reason to smile… and I think that’s pretty powerful.”

My cheeks heat as my unfiltered truth bomb detonates between us, and Parker only stares at me, he just stares in that way that he does, where I feel utterly naked and exposed, my skeletons on full display.

But then his lips twitch, and he says, “I think that was more than one reason.”

I’m not expecting that response, or for that almost-playful tone to reappear, so I stand there frozen for one long moment before I manage a head shake. “It wasn’t.”

“It was a lot of words.”

Well, crap.Now I’m pretty positive he’s teasing.

And I have no clue how to handle it.

I don’t know what to say. I’m all out of words.

So… I smile.

Because that’s what I do best.

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